


Bi Babes

by Biromantic_Nerd



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: (Hooray), Bi Ace Peter, Bi Ace Peter Parker, Bi Asexual Peter, Biromantic Peter, Biromantic Peter Parker, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Male Character, Coming Out- Kinda, Eventual Romance, Friendship/Love, Get together fic, Gwen and Aunt May Laugh, Harry's Okay With That, Humor, M/M, Now with mild angst, Paparazzi Assume Things, Peter is not, Precious Peter Parker, Probably Out of Character- Hope Not, Queer Character, Romance, Spiderborn, biromantic character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-05-23 08:36:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6111046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Biromantic_Nerd/pseuds/Biromantic_Nerd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When that van followed Harry and Peter in TASM2, my first thought was paparazzi. </p><p>What-if story about the paparazzi portraying Harry and Peter as long lost childhood sweethearts reunited. </p><p>Peter becomes somewhat of a celebrity. </p><p>Cue awkward Peter and smug Harry as they try to convince reporters they're not dating- no, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have used some direct quotes from a transcript I found in order to keep a lot of the dialogue accurate. 
> 
> I am making this AU, and so I've added my own, but I thought I should disclaim that any recognizable quotes from the movies and/or transcript aren't mine.

Harry Osborn's in the middle of making a point. "Sure, sure. I get it. Twenty year old kid, two hundred billion dollar company. What was Dad thinking? I mean, you're all lawyers, right? Surely someone must have questioned his sanity in the end. Someone must have thought about having him declared legally incompetent, it would have made this conversation a lot easier..."

Donald Menken dared to address him. "Harry..."

"It's Mr. Osborn. We're not friends." Harry immensely enjoyed making that correction. 

Harry recognized a slightly familiar face amongst all of the scowling men. "Hi. You were his assistant, right?" She made a noise of agreement. "What's your name?"

"Felicia."

Harry decided then and there, "Felicia, from now on everybody at this table works for Felicia, because Felicia works for me. Would anybody like to speak up?." An uncomfortable silence settled around the meeting room table. "Well, good. Then you can all keep your jobs a little longer. 

The Osborn butler entered, bringing an interruption. "Sir, there's a Peter Parker here to see you."

And suddenly, the point Harry Osborn had been making doesn't quite matter as much as it had just moments ago. 

Harry left the angry room with barely a moment of hesitation. 

\-----------------------------------------------

Eight years. It's so good to see Peter. It's also uncomfortable, as neither one quite finds the right words. 

"I'm uh...I'm with some people. I'm in a...I'm in a meeting." Harry managed to say, but it's not what he wanted to say. Not what he meant. He'd much rather be here, in this terribly awkward situation with Peter than be back in that room where no one respected him. 

And Peter is so earnest as he tried to connect to Harry, offer his condolence for a father that was never a father to Harry. Peter understands that all too well. But Harry doesn't know how to make him stay. Peter began walking away, out the door with a sad smile. 

"You've got your braces off." Harry called out after him, the first thing he can think of to make him stay. Harry chuckled in amusement. "Now there's nothing to distract from your unibrow." 

Peter laughed along with him.

"There he is! There he is!" Peter thought that it was a glimpse of his best friend from so long ago, just grown up. And maybe a lot more cynical, but Harry had always been that way from the start, so. Peter figured Harry hadn't changed too drastically. "Do you still blow dry your hair every morning?" 

"Um...you know, one of my man servants holds the hair dryer, but I work the comb. Okay, so, at least I'm not completely helpless." The joke eased a bit of the tension that had been in the room, closing the distance between them. Literally. Suddenly, they were hugging, and Harry had missed Peter so much and wondered if Peter had missed him. 

Peter had definitely missed him. 

\-------------------------------------------------

"Let me pay, Harry. My treat." Peter insisted. 

"I don't know if you've seen the news lately, Pete." Harry said sarcastically. "But I can afford to buy us a couple hot dogs."

"Seriously, man, I will not let you. I meant it when I said my treat."

Harry gave a huff, like Peter was burdening him, but he gave in.

As they walked along, Peter wondered when the last time Harry ate something as common as a hot dog instead of, like, caviar or something. 

"What?" Harry asked, in a rare moment of self-consciousness as Peter stared at him. 

"Oh! Nothing." Peter was embarrassed. He hadn't meant to let his thoughts run away with him. 

"No, really, what?" Harry had relaxed, seeing the expression on Peter's face. Now he just seemed curious as to what Peter had been thinking that had gotten him flustered when caught. 

"Welllllll," Peter eyed him warily. "I was just wondering..."

"Wondering what? Stop dragging it out! You know I don't have any patience." 

Peter laughed. "Okay! Okay." He took a deep breath. "I was wondering when the last you had a normal meal was, instead of a fancy-smancy rich boy meal. You have mustard all over your face, and you don't even realize it. When's the last time you had a hot dog anyways?" 

Harry swiped at his face with one hand. "Pete, why on Earth would I buy hot dogs? I have money to buy actual food."

It sounded so pompous and so much like Harry that Peter couldn't help but to laugh. 

"What? It's true! Laugh all you want, but if you were me, you'd buy better things than hot dogs!" 

"Well if you don't want it," Peter began in a singsong voice, "Then give it back!" And he gnashed his teeth in a pretense of stealing a bite of Harry's hot dog. 

"Hey!" Harry jerked back with narrowed eyes. "Watch it! Or do those hipster glasses not even help your vision?" 

"Hipster!" Peter yelped. "Low blow, Osborn. Some friend you are!"

They walked alongside each other for a moment before Peter nudged Harry's shoulder with his own. 

"Like you're one to talk, anyway." 

"What are you babbling about now?" Harry asked, in faux exasperation. 

"You have hipster glasses too, you know. Yours are sunglasses, but still. Hiiiiipster glaaaaasses!" Peter sang tauntingly. 

Harry spluttered. "These are designer! They are NOT hipster, you - you hipster."

"Takes one to know one, Harry. Takes one to know one."

"I hate you." He was definitely pouting as much as an Osborn would allow themselves to be seen pouting in public. 

"Love ya too, buddy."

\--------------------------------------------

"The whole model thing is so exhausting." Harry said with a sigh. They both exchanged a look and laughed. 

Peter agreed, "I know" as if he had a clue about models being interested in dating him, and they laughed again. 

Harry smirked. "What? You got a lady?"

He stammered in the face of Harry's stare. "I- Uh...that's a question. That's a question." He leaned forward on the railing that he was balancing on. "No, I don't. Yeah. I don't know, it's uh...I don't know. It's complicated."

"Yeah, I don't do complicated." Harry had given away as much as he can without being obvious. He even offered his hand to help Peter climb back from over the railing. 

Subtlety was lost on Peter Parker. 

 

\-------------------------------------------------

Peter threw a pebble across the water, and it bounced off the water a suspicious several times before sinking. Peter nearly winced. 

"Nice arm!"

Peter began to babble in hopes of deflection. "It's just the wrist, that's all. Just all in the wrist, buddy. You could do it too, if you just strengthen up that..."

Harry nearly snorted. It sounded like innuendo. "Yeah, right." He could have leered something dirty in response, but, well, maybe next time. He didn't want to scare off innocent Parker. 

Meanwhile, a black van was parked nearby. It occupant was closely monitoring Peter and Harry's conversation. He pulled out his camera, using a lens to zoom in on them as he took photo after photo of the oblivious two interacting. 

This was huge. And he had lucked out by finding the story of the year- maybe the decade, if he played his cards right. 

\-------------------------------------------------

That evening, unbeknownst to Peter, his life was already changing in a way he couldn't conceivably foresee. 

A woman at The Daily Bugle looked over the photographs skeptically. 

"I don't see how this is a ground-breaking story, Eddie. So Harry Osborn has a friend? Big whoop. Mr. Jameson isn't going to pay for these."

"Lorraine, it's not just a friend. It's a BOYfriend." He handed her another manilla envelope. 

"What?" She gasped, taking the envelope. She began rummaging inside of it There were old newspapers clippings, photographs of two young boys, printed documents - testimonies of people employed by Norman Osborn that encountered Harry and this boy - yearbook photos, and a whole stack of handwritten letters. "What is all of this?"

"Proof that Norman Osborn tried his hardest to keep his son from loving his male best friend. These in particular," He pointed to the hefty stack of letters. "Are the correspondence between Harry Osborn and Peter Parker while Harry was enrolled overseas. The post office was paid to make sure they stayed, ah, undelivered by an anonymous and wealthy man. But one guilty employee couldn't dispose of them, and here they are."

He carried on, excited. 

"These firsthand testimonies all describe the two boy's childhood interactions and how it infuriated Norman Osborn after they became what he deemed suspiciously too close. And that's why he sent Harry Osborn away to boarding school. To prevent any romance that was blossoming between them." 

Lorraine picked up an old photograph of two young boys. One of them, clearly Harry Osborn, was looking directly at the camera with a smug smirk. The other boy - who was apparently called Peter Parker - was not facing the camera. Instead, he was facing Harry as he stood on tip-toes to press a kiss on Harry Osborn's cheek; he also held his hand. She compared the photograph to a current one she had dismissed as simple friendship. Peter Parker, all grown up and gangly, was either walking on a railing or climbing it. Harry Osborn was offering a hand to help balance him. Peter's fingers were just grazing Harry's in the beginning of acceptance. 

"I think Jameson would want to print this." Eddie continued as she gaped at the two photographs side by side. "I've already sold it to four other papers, and he'll be behind if he doesn't. However, for my favorite newspaper, I kept an exclusive tidbit just for The Bugle."

"What is it?" She asked breathlessly, taken in by the story. 

"These photographs," He gestured to the current ones. "Were taken a day after Norman Osborn died. Harry had been in New York for about two weeks already before that. So you can gather that the boys were only keeping apart because of Norman Osborn, and now that he's dead..."

"That's why they're just now reuniting." She concluded. 

"It's the classic tale of forbidden love, if you play your cards right. With that type of spin on it, your paper will stand out from the other papers."

"And with the emphasis being that this Parker kid is his long lost childhood sweetheart? You run a special edition; it'll sell out. I guarantee it."

As Eddie was walking, Lorraine suddenly realized where she had seen Peter Parker before. He was The Daily Bugle's very own photographer who specialized in extraordinary Spider-man photos. 

"Oh. Oh Jameson isn't going to like this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bi Babes" was just supposed to be my funny/cute working title. But then. It grew on me?? 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! I'm really curious for opinions and feedback!
> 
> I hope you have a wonderful day! Thanks for reading!


	2. (We're) Front Page News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New York has given Harry and Peter its blessing. Peter is dumbfounded. 
> 
> And maybe a little panicky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cafe Hooray is made up. It's basically just what I'd imagine as a prominent New York City LGBTA coffee spot. (BTW, the A stands for Asexual and Aromantic- not ally.)

Yesterday spent with Harry had gone well, Peter thought. They had exchanged cell phone numbers and promised to hang out again soon. 

They still weren't as smooth as maybe they once had been together as kids, but they seemed to lose their awkward atmosphere the more time they spent interacting together. Only more quality time would bring him his best friend back. 

He felt oddly hopeful. 

"Peter! I've made dinner!" Aunt May called.

"Coming!" He shouted. 

Peter rose from his desk chair and descended down the stairs. 

He was glad that he had decided to contact Harry. It had been something he wasn't entirely too sure about. But, Harry had accepted his offer of rekindling their friendship while making an attempt of his own to reconnect. Harry might have almost let him walk out the door and leave when Peter had first awkwardly approached him, but then Harry had called out after him. That's really all that mattered. Clearly, things were going to be just fine.  
\-------------------------------------------------

"Oh no."

Things were not going to be just fine. Things were not going to be even close to fine. Holy cow, how had Peter ever even thought that? 

"Peter?" Aunt May sounded worried. He couldn't even begin to imagine what his expression looked like. 

"Oh no, oh no, oh no." He dropped his bite of food and instead scrambled for the remote to turn the volume up. His eyes couldn't believe what he was seeing on the evening news. 

"-the hottest topic right now!" The anchorwoman reported. "Harry Osborn, has been finally reunited with his long lost childhood sweetheart, Peter Parker."

"Oh." Aunt May breathed, placing her fork down with unsteady hands as well.

"Most people were surprised that Osborn, notorious playboy in the past, has settled down; but the public support has been overwhelming any criticisms of the new CEO. Let's take a look."

The screen switched from the broadcasting studio to the streets of New York. 

"And what do you think of new CEO Harry Osborn's childhood sweetheart Peter Parker?"

The businessman smiled. "I think, at first, I was skeptical. It's very convenient timing to suddenly contact him, right when he inherits a company. But then, you hear the whole story, you know? And it kind of makes you feel sorry for Harry Osborn a bit. Having to wait until his dad died- I mean, because he was so disapproving of the relationship that Norman sent him overseas just to separate the two. It's- It's very brave of Harry. It's like he's saying: I'm in charge now, not my father. And his company better get used to it and respect that." 

A mother holding a toddler was on the screen next. "It's wonderful. Very romantic."

"Like a fairytale!" The child piped up. 

"We also asked around local landmark and LGBTA safe haven 'Cafe Hooray' to get an informed opinion from the LGBT crowd." The newscaster carried on. 

"I think it's great," A tattooed teenager said with a grin. "Harry Osborn is a real icon, and for him to be CEO of Oscorp and have a boyfriend is a huge deal. People have to acknowledge that we - queer people - exist. And we're not just in clubs. We're in charge of companies."

"It reaffirms the validity of our identities, to the public." A woman now spoke. "It dissuades from the notion that we choose our sexualities, our genders. Harry Osborn and Peter Parker were in love as children. It shoots down anyone who believes that children have to adhere to a heteronormative lifestyle." 

"As you can see," The news anchor began, "This couple means a lot to many different people of all sorts of ages, races, classes, genders, and sexualities. Harry Osborn and Peter Parker may mean a lot of different things, but one things is clear. They are quickly becoming a beloved symbol of hope in this city. We at Channel 19 will keep you updated with any developments as we follow the story."

"Thank you, Jennifer. In other related news, stock prices for Oscorp took a minor dip before skyrocketing. Everyone seems to want-"

Peter numbly clicked the mute button.

What in the world? Why- when- Peter didn't understand. He blankly stared at his name, still scrolling across the bottom of the television screen. Peter was on the news. Peter was breaking news. Not even Spiderman - Peter. He felt nauseous.

"...Peter? Were you going to tell me?" Aunt May prodded hesitantly. He looked towards her, feeling guilty. 

"I... I dunno, I mean- I thought, yeah, if I had a boyfriend I'd tell you that I was b-" He took a steadying breath. "- that I am bi. But it's not exactly something that just comes up at the dinner table." He gestured to the forgotten food that laid still on the table in emphasis. 

"Peter, I love you, but bringing your boyfriend over for dinner is exactly what should have happened!" She scolded gently. 

"What?" It wasn't the response he had expected. He wasn't sure, exactly, what he had expected; but he knew that that wasn't it. 

"I know I've met him before, but I still deserve to meet him now that he's your boyfriend. Especially since you didn't tell me about Gwen until you broke up! Luckily, you two got back together, and I could meet her- but my point stands!" Her face and her voice both softened. "I'd like to be involved in your life, Peter. Please." 

He had been not expecting any of that. His already bizarre morning was still getting more and more bizarre. "That's really sweet of you, Aunt May, but I don't have a boyfriend."

Her confusion was audible. "But what about Harry!"

"No, nooo, we're not dating. I don't- I don't know why the tv thinks Harry and me are, but we're not. I promise you, Aunt May." His hands vehemently gestured as he protested before slowly they came to a stop as he gently finished. 

She gripped his face softly with warm fingers. "I love you, Peter. Boyfriend or no boyfriend. Anyone - regardless of gender - would be lucky to date you. I hope you understand that. Oh, Peter. I love you so, so much."

"I know." He swallowed, emotional at her tone of pure affection. "I love you too." He cleared his throat, avoiding her suspiciously bright eyes and trying to ignore his own. He really ought to say that to her more, he decided. Or maybe less, if this was the reaction he'd get from her every time. He hated to see her cry, even if they were happy tears. "I'm going to go to bed now. Tired. Long day. Goodnight!" 

"Alright. Goodnight, Peter!" She called as he scrambled up the staircase. 

He leaned against his closed door, blankly staring ahead with unfocused eyes. In the safety of his room, he allowed himself to unravel a bit. How many people had seen the evening news? Peter's face was plastered all over it; he couldn't deny that it was him on the tv if anyone asked. Had Harry seen it? If not, he was sure to have someone tell him. No company wants their leader to be involved in a scandal. But from what Peter had surmised, it was hardly a scandal; the whole city seemed to be rejoicing at their supposed relationship. It, frankly, surprised him. 

Why was everyone so supportive? Beyond that, why were they so excited? He was just Peter Parker. They didn't know he was Spiderman, so he didn't understand why they were so adamant about- dare he say - loving him. Because it seemed like all of New York loved Peter. Or, at least, they loved Peter when he was in a relationship with Harry. Which he obviously wasn't! Would everyone hate him and boo him on the street when Harry set the record straight? 

Peter snorted. Set the record straight. Ah, unintentional puns. 

But, that brought up another valid point. Harry wasn't bi like Peter! Or pan! At least, Peter realized with a guilty wince, that's what he had assumed. Okay, so he had automatically assumed that his playboy best friend was straight. So sue him. But not really because he needs all the money he has, thank you very much. 

Was Harry bi? Peter gnawed at his lip. Not that it reaaally mattered in this situation, since it didn't change the fact that they still weren't a couple- regardless of Harry's sexuality or romantic orientation. 

Maybe his romantic orientation was different than his sexual orientation? That would explain all the girls. Maybe he enjoyed sleeping with girls, but was romantically attracted to men- or both? 

Aaand he was thinking about this way too much, he realized. 

"Augghhh." Peter dragged his hands over face slowly. "Get it together, Parker. It doesn't matter." Harry - regardless of whatever label he identified with - would end this huge misconception, and everyone would forget about it in a couple weeks. 

"By tomorrow morning," Peter decided, "Harry will probably have fixed everything. There's no need to be so freaked out. OR to try and guess Harry's sexuality."

Peter flopped down on his bed, kicking off his sneakers after he landed. He then sat up as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the floor. He debated whether pajamas were worth the effort, but then he just decided to also shrug out of his jeans and t-shirt in order to be more comfortable. 

Laying back down, his mind was racing. He stared up at the ceiling, as if it could give him any answers. 

"This," Peter decided. "has not been a good day. I liked yesterday a whole heck of a lot better." 

Yesterday, he had been reunited with his best friend. Yesterday, they were on the path of rekindling their friendship. Yesterday, no one knew who Peter Parker was. No one thought he was dating Harry Osborn yesterday. Yesterday, he hadn't been forced to come out to his aunt. Yesterday, he was definitely not on the news. Yesterday, Peter had felt optimistic. 

Just hours ago even, he had felt optimistic. Peter could hardly believe it, could hardly remember the sensation. Now, he just felt overwhelmingly tired. 

He took his glasses off, placing them on his nightstand. 

The unfocused ceiling still held no answers. 

"Besides," Peter continued his earlier conversion to himself aloud, "Judging someone's possible sexuality based on whether or not they've dated a man is gross. Geez, Parker, don't define people's sexual identities by the gender of the people they've dated in the past. That's seriously not good." 

He stared at the ceiling again before trying to verbally fill the quiet room. 

"And also! Should I get flowers for Aunt May? She always deserves flowers, but today especially." She had been everything Peter could have ever wanted for if he ever came out to her. Except, maybe, there was a lack of rainbow themed food. But Peter didn't really fault her for that, of course; especially considering the fact that it was so unplanned. 

"I... should ask her what her favorite kind of flower is. But that's not exactly subtle." 

There was only so much that Peter could use to try and distract himself with. He paused, searching his mind for something - anything, really - to say that would be a distraction from his wildly storming anxiety. Nothing came to his frazzled mind.

After a moment, Peter burrowed into his blanket more tightly. 

"Is tomorrow going to be really terrible?" He worried in a small voice. 

It was silent once more. His room didn't magically provide him the answers to his questions. 

He sighed.

It was just as well, since Peter didn't have any answers either. He hadn't really expected to find any answers, anyways. He stared up at that stupid ceiling, trying to fall asleep. But it took him hours upon restless, nervous hours until he finally managed to quell the nervous energy inside of him and, instead, begin to dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the chapter! Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone! I appreciate your support! It's really encouraging to see that people are reading it! 
> 
> I'm over the moon :)


	3. Harry "Helps" (He Really Only Makes It Worse)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'd like to briefly address the flattering rumor that has been floating around. I mean, I'm seen one time with him, and suddenly everyone thinks we're dating! It's not like we're going steady!" Harry Osborn flashed a grin, teeth bright and white. 
> 
> "I'm going to kill him." Peter decided, just as a reporter called out:
> 
> "When are you planning on asking him to go steady, then?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 95% from Peter's perspective and 5% Harry's. It's just the way it happened.

His phone was ringing. Peter groaned, pulling his blanket over his head. His phone stopped. The silence lasted for a few seconds; and then the phone began again. 

"Uggghh. Alright. Geesh, alright." Peter blearily extended his arm, trying to locate the annoying device without leaving his bed. "Aha!" He exclaimed as he bumped it with his searching fingers and grasped it. "Um, hello?" 

"Peter." A male voice purred over the phone, "Did I wake you?"

"Ummm," His brain was slow to respond. It seemed way too early to exist, let alone to be awake. "Harry?"

"So you were asleep." Harry's voice was quiet as he said that, as if to himself. "Yeah, it's me. I was just calling to extend an invitation towards you to join me at today's press conference that I'll be hosting. It'll be a brief thing, and it starts at seven thirty. What do you say, Pete?" 

"Wha- what time is it right now, Harry?" Peter squinted at the bright screen of his phone, but couldn't make out a distinct number anywhere with his blurry eyes. 

"It's 5:45. Rise and shine, sunshine." He was way too chipper - sarcastically chipper - but that still counted. 

"Har," He groaned feebly, "I'm really gonna have to say no to - to whatever it was. I am not functioning right now. Call me later, okay?"

"Okay. I'll call you when you get out of bed. So, that'll be about ... twelve o'clock, am I right?" 

"You're so funny - really, Harry - but I'm gonna go back to sleep now. Bye."

"Goodbye, Peter."

Peter flopped over and fell asleep, curled up with his cell phone still in hand and tucked underneath his cheek. 

After a couple of minutes of listening to his soft snoring, Harry Osborn disconnected the call, smiling in amusement. 

\-------------------------------------------------

His phone rang half an hour later, and Harry smiled. Peter, he guessed, calling him back. He hoped anyways. He grabbed it, looking at the caller's name. 

The amused smiled died on his lips. 

"Harry Osborn speaking." He answered monotonously. 

"I want - er, the council wants to know if you think it is advisable to show up today. Considering the circumstances." 

"No, of course I'm still coming in to the office today." He didn't bother attempting to reign in his annoyance. "If that's all - "

Harry paused as the man interrupted him. 

"Are you sure that's wise? You are in the midst of some scandal right now. That kind of press is exactly what Oscorp doesn't need. If you're ever going to be the leader Norman was, you can't have some reporters linking you to some faggot from your childhood. Staying home until this dies down would be better for your image, your career."

"Stay home?" Harry snarled. "What- so that you and the council can make my decisions for me? So that you can try to take over my company and sabotage it when I'm not around? I really don't think THAT would be wise." 

"What I believe, Mr. Menken," He carried on furiously, "is that you should probably not show up at Oscorp today. Because, as of now, you're fired. I'll have someone collect your things for you and send them to you. Don't step foot on my company's soil, or I will arrest you for trespassing." 

Harry continued louder over his protests. "Also, as for your 'concerns' well," He sneered. "I'll be the one to decide what to do with Mr. Parker, thank you. Your colorful commentary about him is not needed and, frankly, moronic."

He hung up. 

"Idiots." Harry sighed to himself, pinching his nose. "The council is made up of bigoted idiots." At least, he tried to console himself, there was one less now. 

His phone rang once more. 

He took a deep breath before answering. 

"Harry Osborn speaking. Oh, Felicia. Thank you for getting back to me again. What's the latest analysis? Has anything changed since last night?" 

"Public opinion is still vastly supportive." She answered, her tone professional. "All analysis reads that profits will not be harmed; they will, in fact, actually continue to rise. Your current popularity could definitely be built up with all the hype surrounding you and Mr. Parker. Enough, I believe, to easily hold sway over stockholders when you eject the council."

He quickly sat forward, on the edge of his seat. "Enough sway to eject the entire council?" Harry demanded urgently, a flash drive digging in to the palm of one clenched hand. 

"Absolutely."

Harry leaned back in his chair, relieved. The confirmation had just cemented his plans to go forward. 

"All right. Let's do this then."

\--------------------------------------------

When he was feeling a bit more like a human being, and the clock said a much more reasonable time than 5:45 am, Peter was awake. Well, somewhat. Peter had shuffled his way through his morning routine and went downstairs; he was currently sitting at his kitchen table. He was hunched blearily over a bowl of cereal, while Aunt May sat across from him with some orange juice. Okay, so maybe he wasn't fully awake, but even spider powers couldn't make him a morning person. Aunt May quickly glanced at him when he missed his mouth, and the metal spoon made a harsh clank as it collided with his glasses. Then she was back to looking away. 

She seemed to be keeping an eye on the television, which was an odd thing for her to be doing in the morning. But Peter chalked it up to probably having to do with last night's story playing on a repeat cycle again this morning. Suddenly she turned up the volume, and Peter nearly spat out the cereal that he had lazily managed to get in his mouth. 

"This is Jennifer Li, from Channel 19. Bringing you the latest development in the Osborn love story that has taken New York by storm. Harry Osborn has announced that he will be holding a press conference in just a few short minutes. In less than fifteen minutes, he will stand upon this stage and give us the scoop about his romance with Peter Parker, his childhood sweetheart from the past now reunited at long last."

"What. The. Heck?" Peter asked in dazed shock as it went to commercial. Vaguely, a memory stirred in the back of his mind. 

"This should be interesting." Aunt May remarked calmly. 

"Oh my gosh!" Peter flailed as he remembered. "The press conference! That's what he was inviting me to this morning!"

His aunt gave him a look that he couldn't decipher. "And you declined?"

"I was half-asleep! But, yeah, I probably still would have said no even if I wasn't." He admitted. 

"Interesting how Harry Osborn calls you in the middle of the night, like some sort of paramour." She sipped her juice casually. "How romantic."

"It wasn't the middle of the night, just early morning, and I cannot believe you just said that to me!" 

"Oh, look, they're back on!" She deflected with a coy smile. Peter could not believe that she had just gave him that look. 

"We are live as Oscorp CEO and latest hot topic Harry Osborn is hosting a press conference. The media has been going wild, speculating that he is about to confirm his relationship with long-long childhood sweetheart, Peter Parker. The question on everyone's mind and what everyone wants to know is will Peter Parker show up to the press conference alongside him?"

"Nope." Peter said, spooning another bite of his cereal. 

Aunt May hushed him. He stared at her for about two seconds, then he shrugged in agreement. 

"Harry Obsorn has stepped on to the stage, looking very charming in his navy suit. The crowd - I'm sure you can hear it back in the studio and at home - is going absolutely nuts. Completely wild. Cameras are flashing everywhere, and the press line is so crowded; we're packed like sardines just trying to get a good glimpse."

"It doesn't," She continued with a frown, "look like Mr. Parker will be making an appearance besides him. What a disappointment! Many in the crowd were holding out hope. Oh, Harry Osborn appears as if he's about to begin!" The camera angle turned back to the stage.

The roaring cheers came to a slow decline as Harry lifted one hand to hush the wild crowd. 

"Good morning." He drawled confidently. "Thank you, everyone, for coming out here today." Peter snorted as Harry whipped off his hipster sunglasses with a dramatic flair, folding them into his suit pocket. He was such a dork, Peter couldn't understand how anyone couldn't realize that. Harry Osborn was a huge hipster dork, and no one seemed to think so but Peter, who never hesitated to tell his best friend friend exactly that. 

Harry's smile was, as per typical, charming and polite. He looked way more awake than Peter felt, and Peter did not understand that one iota. Harry wasn't a morning person either, so why was he so chipper? It certainly wasn't fair, and it was a tad bit suspicious. 

"I'd like to briefly address the flattering rumor that has been floating around. I mean, I'm seen one time with him, and suddenly everyone thinks we're dating! It's not like we're going steady!" Harry Osborn flashed a grin, teeth bright and white.

"I'm going to kill him." Peter decided, just as a reporter called out:

"When are you planning on asking him to go steady, then?"

Cereal long forgotten, Peter leaned forward. "Harry, I swear if you-" He breathed in angry anticipation but the television cut him off before he could finish his murmured threat. 

"Oh, I don't really have a timeline for that, you know? I just want to hang out with my best friend and reconnect. He's been showing me around the city, all his favorites places and the places we used to hang out, and it's been great. I think we'd like to stay pretty casual like that. It's easy to remember why I love New York and why I love him when we hang out."

"Harry, you didn't!" 

Peter was aghast. 

The media was delighted. 

Aunt May coughed, but Peter darkly suspected it was actually a poorly disguised laugh.

The flashes of journalists' cameras must have been excited about capturing Harry's proud smile. From the overwhelming shuttering flashes of brightness, it looked like that image was going to be very popular indeed.

"Mr. Osborn, how long have you loved him?" 

"Have you confessed to him before, or is this the first time, Mr. Osborn?" 

"Over here! Is there a reason why Mr. Parker isn't here today-"

"Whoa!" Harry laughed, more easygoing than Peter had seen in a while. It was probably a facade for the cameras, Peter thought a tad bitterly. "I'll answer those, but I really do have to attend work today, folks."

"Let's see," Harry tapped his chin with one long finger, as if in thought. "I've probably loved him ever since we were kids. Once, I told him that he couldn't be a Power Ranger and a scientist because that's dumb, and he told me that my face was dumb. And then he apologized and said my face wasn't dumb; that it was nice. I told him his face was dumb, and that he had a unibrow. But he just laughed and said I'm a bad liar." 

"I don't recall if I've ever told Peter that I love him, no. But maybe when we were young? He used to say it a lot to me, so I might have said it back one day. But maybe not. I was a bit of a brat, so probably not." He smirked, flicking his bangs from his face with nimble fingers. "Actually, he just told me he loved me the other day, and I still didn't say it back. I guess I'm still a brat, huh, Peter?"

Peter's face was pink. He remembered being an affectionate kid towards his very few precious loved ones, but he didn't think that Harry would admit that on live television! It was so easy to misunderstand, Peter bemoaned. And he hadn't exactly confessed his love to Harry. He had been joking - teasing - when he had told Harry he loved him. Peter specifically remembered the word "buddy" in there too. There's nothing romantic about being pals! 

"He certainly does seem to be quite gone on you." His aunt seemed impressed; Peter was even more mortified.

"As for why he's not here, well, he's a bit shy. And I can only assume that he's still half asleep in bed. That's where he was the last I spoke with him. No more questions. Thank you!" He departed the stage with a friendly wave, careless of the effect he left behind. 

Peter's jaw was hanging. He knew that his face was burning red. How could Harry say something so - so - so suggestive! People would definitely get the wrong idea about that! Harry talking to Peter while Peter was in bed? Couldn't Harry have said anything else? Like, Peter couldn't make it because he's - he's - he has school or work or something? 

Oh no, oh no. 

School. Everyone at school had seen this. True, Peter didn't really talk to anyone at college but still. They would all know. 

His workplace would know. He worked at a stinking paper. Of course they would know! Peter's breaking news. He could practically hear Jameson yelling at him already.

In fact, everyone would know. Everyone would think that Harry Osborn had just confirmed that they were in love, possibly sleeping together. 

Peter's head thunked on the table. His cereal bowl wobbled, sloshing milk in his hair. He groaned. 

"There, there," Aunt May said consolingly as she rinsed her juice glass. "At least your fake boyfriend clearly is smitten. And he's such a looker!" 

"Aunt May!" Peter's head shot up in shock. 

Her mouth was twisted into an amused smirk. "What? All I'm saying is that it could be worse. It's a good, loving relationship!"

"It's not a relationship! There is no relationship!"

"Tell that to Harry Osborn! You'll break his poor heart!" 

He gaped silently. She laughed at him. 

"It's not funny!" He protested, dismayed. 

"It is a bit, Peter." Her smirk gentled into a smile. 

"I'm disowning you. Shame upon you and your cow. Shame and dishonor." He mumbled, as milk dripped down the back of his neck. 

"Alright," She agreed easily, handing him a dish towel. He debated accepting because of her still traitorously gleeful eyes, but he reluctantly took it. "Better clean up before Harry sees you like this, you know. Or the paparazzi." 

"What is my life?" He groaned, wringing out his damp hair. "Why are you so mean to me?" She chuckled in amusement. 

"That's my job, dear. To love you and to mock you when things like this happen." She exited the kitchen. 

"Things like this? Nothing has ever been comparable to this before! The entire state of New York thinks Harry and I are in love! It's not the same as accidentally wearing a shirt inside out while in public or something! This - this is a catastrophe!" 

"I'm sure you're just being a tad bit overdramatic, Peter!" She called back to him. 

"Over- overdramatic?" He mouthed, astounded at the accusation. 

"I've got to head in to work. I'll see you in the evening. I made you lunch; it's in the fridge."

"Okay, thanks. I don't know if I can even stomach food today with the way things are turning out."

"Please at least try to eat in the midst of your dating dilemma. That's all I can ask."

"Dilemma! I'm distressed! This is huge!"

"Goodbye! Have a good day, Peter!"

"Doubt it." He grumbled before raising his voice in farewell. "Bye, Aunt May! You have a good day too!"

It was silent for a moment as he stood alone in the kitchen, hair wet and towel catching the drippings. He was thankful that it was the weekend so that he could hide away and not leave the house. He wouldn't have been able to wear interacting with people today as they recognized his face from the news. The NEWS. Peter groaned at the thought. 

"Everything is so bad, it cannot get any worse." He said to himself. It was hardly comforting. 

His phone was ringing inside his pocket. He pulled it out and audibly yelped. 

"I am doomed. So doomed." 

The caller ID said Gwen Stacy.

Things had, somehow, gotten worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession: My Aunt May seems more like Ultimate Spider-Man Aunt May than TASM Aunt May. 
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> And I've realized that I cannot help myself from responding to comments with entire paragraphs. People who comment are so nice, and I just want to give them so much love. 
> 
> I'm so sorry if you don't want an entire paragraph, but I just love you so much.


	4. Gwen Finds Out + Oscorp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He's not my boyfriend! Stop laughing, Gwen! This is serious!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen is only featured for a surprisingly brief amount of time. Sorry for all the Gwen fans expecting a whole chapter of Gwen. I was expecting that too?

Gwen Stacy was calling him. 

Presumably, she was calling him after seeing Harry's interview. 

Or, really, any of the news channels. Or newspapers. The important thing was: there was no way that she hadn't seen or heard the news by now. Really, Peter was lucky he had made it this long without her calling him. 

It was the fault of Harry's interview. Definitely Harry's interview. And definitely Harry's fault. 

He didn't want to answer the phone. He stared at it in contemplation, wondering what would happen if he just never answered. But, well, he decided to be brave and answer it despite his reservations. And the feeling of eminent doom. 

It couldn't be _that_ bad. 

"Peter Parker!" 

He really, really needed to stop jinxing himself. 

"Um, this is not Peter Parker?" He squeaked in a high pitched voice, a pathetically mustered attempt at disguise. "You definitely have the wrong number. Go call... someone else!" 

"Pe-ter! Par-ker!" She raged furiously, dragging out each syllable sternly. 

"This isn't Peter!"

"Peter Benjamin Parker!" She said even more menacingly. 

"Oh my gosh, Gwen, how many times does someone have to tell you that they're not Peter Parker until you believe them?" He sighed, admitting defeat. 

 

"Only once. But they have to _not_ be you when they do it!"

"Ah. So that's the trick." He hummed, stalling. 

"Peter, come on. Stop avoiding it. Just tell me." She didn't sound angry anymore, at least. That was something. 

"Avoiding what? You didn't ask me anything!" He pointed out to her. 

"Tell me about your boyfriend. You know." Gwen sounded impatient. "The famous one. The one that's also made you famous. The boyfriend you ALSO never told me - your friend and ex - about. THAT boyfriend!"

"Because- because Harry and I aren't dating! It's this huge misunderstanding that the media has stirred up. And Harry was supposed to fix it and clear everything up in his press conference, but Gwen," He wailed. 

"He only made it so. much. worse! And nobody is going to believe me! I had to tell Aunt May that I was bi; this is me telling you that I'm bi, by the way. Because she ALSO saw the news and thought I had been keeping a secret boyfriend from her! But, obviously, I'm not because Harry and I aren't dating! It's all lies!"

His chest was heaving slightly after his long, frantic spiel. Huh. Maybe, he was slighty hysterical. Just a little bit. Maybe a lot. The situation was spiraling out of Peter's control faster than he had ever anticipated - not that he had EVER anticipated being in this situation - and, clearly, it was taking its toll on him. 

"Take a deep breath, Peter. It's going to be fine. Have you talked to your boyfriend about his botched press conference?" She said soothingly. 

"He's not my boyfriend!" He then held the phone away from his ear as he stared at it incredulously, in disbelief at her reaction. "Stop laughing, Gwen! This is serious!"

"Sorry! Sor-ry." Her voice was the least apologetic thing Peter had heard, but he didn't bother to protest. "All right then, have you talked to your long lost childhood sweetheart?" She started snickering. 

Peter groaned in dismay. "Whyyyy is everyone calling us that?"

"It IS pretty word-for-word in every article I've seen." Gwen agreed, actually sympathetic this time. Oh sure - she pities him for the media's uncreative catchphrase. What even were her priorities here? Peter needed new friends. Nice, supportive, non-laughing friends. "So. Harry?"

"No. What am I supposed to even say to him anyways? 'Thanks for trying, but you made us look even more in love than people had already assumed?'" Peter grimaced. "Noooo thank you." 

"Hmm." 

"Is that a thinking 'hmm' or a 'Peter, you're an idiot hmm'? ...Gwen?" He questioned. 

"A little bit of both. But, more importantly, I've got a plan."

"Gwen Stacy, I could kiss you." 

She was an actual saint, Peter decided gratefully. 

"Been there, done that. Besides - that's what your boyfriend is for."

He took it back. Gwen Stacy was evil. Pure evil. 

\------------------------------------------------

Earlier, Harry had jokingly said that he would call Peter again later. Peter didn't bother waiting to find out if he would or not and just called him first. 

"Peter! Did you see the interview?" Harry asked in delight in leu of a greeting. It was hard to come out and say anything negative with such an enthusiastic greeting like that. 

"Yeah, yeah, I did. That's... kind of why I was calling." He said nervously, quickly losing his steam in the face of Harry's excitement. 

"What's up?"

"Can you arrange an interview slash press conference thingy with the both of us?" Peter pressed on. "Gwen thinks if people see the way we interact with each other, they'll realize we're just friends. Plus, I'll be able to tell them myself that we're not dating. Since, we're not. And since, you know, you kind of... didn't do that."

"Aright. I'll talk to Felicia about it. You, me, and like fifty reporters tomorrow? It's a date. I'll pick you up at nine."

"Harry, no, you - that's exactly the type of thing that you CAN'T say tomorrow, okay? Harry?"

The line was already dead. 

Peter groaned.

\-----------------------------------------------

"Gentlemen." Harry greeted as they walked through the door. Harry had already long arrived, sitting down with his heels kicked up on the table while he was waiting. 

"Don't you have any sense of responsibility? Of decorum? You're turning Oscorp into a laughing stock! You need to get your act together and cease all this - this nonsense!"

Felicia exchanged a sly look with Harry. 

"Hmm, I really don't think any of you are in positions to be telling me what to do." Harry gave a wide, shark like smile. "I am the one with backing from stockholders. I am the one with enough public support to do anything I want. As long as I cooperate with the media about New York's newest sweethearts, I'm the public's darling. And, if I were you, I'd very, very careful to stay on my good side. Because I am the one who has the power, not any of you." 

"This is an outrage!" Someone protested furiously 

"No," Harry said coldly. "This is me taking back control of my own damn company." 

\----------------------------------------------

"That went well." Harry looked towards Felicia, after the business meeting was over and dismissed hours later. 

"You fired half of the council." Her voice was too professional to be judgmental but it was effectively conveyed with her lifted eyebrow. 

"I know," Harry groaned then spoke again. "Only half." He grinned sharply at her. Her lips twitched. 

"Did you get my text earlier?" He asked, stretching a bit. His shoulders popped softly. 

She nodded. "Tomorrow morning at 9:30. We can even have a national broadcast that airs in a slight delay after it's filmed. But, if I may, you just had a press conference. Another seems... unnecessary. Redundant." She advised him cautiously. 

"Normally, I would agree with you. But tomorrow's press conference will be what really sways my standing in the public's opinion. My good favor is going to be cemented in."

"What's changed between this morning and now?" She asked, brow furrowed. 

"Now, Peter has agreed to partake in the interview with me. Earlier, he didn't. It's a game-changer. And to my benefit."

"As long as he doesn't jeopardize it." She warned. "If he manages to cause you to actually lose favor, the remainder of the council will not only stay - they will overpower you." 

Harry's eyes narrowed at her before flicking away. "Believe me; he'll do just the opposite."

"If you're sure." She said, after a moment. 

Harry grinned. "You don't know Peter, Felicia, but I do. Reporters will eat him up with a spoon." 

"As long as they don't eat him alive instead." 

"What do you think I'm there for? I'll make sure that he's fine and that he doesn't reveal anything that I don't want him to." He dismissed her worries with ease, knowing that he could stop any unfortunate outcomes. "No one will ever find out that we're not dating." 

Felicia stared at him, her eyes incredulous. "What the hell do you mean you're not dating?" 

Harry blinked at her, surprised. She pushed on. "I've read your love letters to him from when you were a kid in The Daily Bugle. You pined over that kid for years while you were gone. And you two continuously wrote each other even though your letters weren't going through to each other. You even described what type of wedding you two would have together!" 

"I did not!" He protested, cheeks flushing red at his childish tone. "You made that up!" 

She eyed him in contempt, as if she was ready to slap him for suggesting that she was wrong. "You were twelve years old. Your father suggested to you that you start looking at some marriage applicants for an arranged marriage. You complained to Peter that it was unfair and that weddings were boring anyway. You mentioned how Peter once had said untraditional weddings are weddings that could be whatever you wanted. You then followed with the idea of just him at your wedding since he was the only person you could stand. Also, maybe his aunt and uncle if they brought pizza. Then you added on the idea of you two getting married at a theme park." 

Harry gaped at her. 

Felicia cleared her throat. "So," She said coolly, as if she hadn't just given a rant about Harry wanting to marry Peter when he was a kid, "I need to go finalize some details for tomorrow. If that's all that you needed for now?" 

"Yes. Yes. Go ahead." He said, still flabbergasted. 

Harry didn't know what it said about them that even Felicia - cool, calm, collective Felicia - lost her calm demeanor at the idea that Peter and Harry weren't actually long lost childhood sweethearts. It probably spoke good for his plan to overthrow the council. However, it did make Harry a bit nervous. The public backlash if they found out would mimic Felicia's - denial, anger, and then fury. 

It was now even more important that tomorrow go well then. The future of Oscorp depended on it. And, Harry thought with a keen awareness of the spreading patch on his neck, the future of Harry himself depended on it as well. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is now a subplot introduced to this story.


	5. Foot, Meet Peter's Mouth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Harry do a press conference together. 
> 
> Peter intends to set the record straight. (He doesn't.)
> 
> Harry intends to flirt and cause chaos.  
> (He does.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsies. Accidently posted next chapter's current draft. Here's the actual chapter! :)

"Don't you look beautiful in the morning?"

"...Harry?!" Peter shot up in his bed, clutching his sheets and blankets over his bare shoulders. "What are you doing here - how - how did you get in my room?"

"Your aunt let me in." Harry was leaning against the back of Peter's door. It was oddly like a parallel to what Peter himself had just done two days ago. Only, instead of having a nervous breakdown like Peter had had, Harry was at total ease. He smirked at Peter's confused stare. 

"Don't tell me you don't remember."

"I remember!"

Peter DID remember. He remembered the whole enchilada. Hanging out with Harry, the news on the television, his face on the tv, Aunt May, and the misunderstanding. Him being so thankful that it was Saturday and that he didn't need to leave the house - as Peter Parker, that is - Spiderman was able to go out and patrol. Gwen calling and him calling Harry. 

It was just. He wasn't sure why Harry was in his room. 

"You really are useless in the mornings, aren't you?" The words were harsh, but Harry's tone was fondly exasperated. "It's 8:30. I'm here to take you to the press conference that YOU asked for. Remember?"

Ah. That. That did sound familiar. 

Peter squinted up at Harry's smugly amused face. He didn't have his glasses on, but -

"Are you wearing lipgloss?"

"Please, Peter. We're going to be on national television. I'm not just wearing lipgloss." Harry opened the door, turning to exit. He called over his shoulder, "Now get up. You've got to get ready, and I have makeup, hair, and wardrobe waiting downstairs for you for after you've eaten."

And with that, Harry shut the door and left. 

How was this Peter's life?

\-----------------------------------------------

His downstairs living room had been taken over completely. Avoiding the gazes of the strangers armed with clothing hairbrushes, and makeup, Peter went to the kitchen to grab breakfast. 

Aunt May was sitting at the table already. With Harry. 

Something in Peter's sleep-adled mind went on alert. 

"Peter!" Aunt May greeted him cheerfully. "I was just talking to Harry. Telling him it seems that he's all grown up now. Such a handsome young man -wouldn't you agree, Peter?"

"Uhhhhhh." Momentarily baffled at the question, he gave his aunt a look, eyes narrowed suspiciously. She stared too innocently back. "Sure. Yeah."

Her lips pressed together and then her mouth twitched, as if fighting the urge to laugh. She was having fun at his expense, Peter knew it. She thought the whole media misunderstanding was hilarious. That's because, Peter thought a bit sullenly, it wasn't happening to her. 

"Honestly, Peter's the one who grew up!" Harry said charmingly towards Aunt May, then smiled in Peter's direction for a moment before resuming facing her. "He was so small as a child, and now he's a giant!"

"I'm not thaaat tall." Peter mumbled, shuffling. "It's only 'cause you're short that you think that."

"Peter." Aunt May admonished, but Harry only made a thoughtful noise of agreement. 

Peter grabbed his waffle from the toaster, nibbling at the steaming edges. 

"Harry was also telling me about the people he hired to help you with your interview. You're going to be on television, isn't that exciting?" Aunt May asked, a proud little smile on her face. 

"Everyone has the uttermost regard for discretion as well as results." Harry promised solemnly. "Though, it won't take much to make you look good." 

"Are you calling me ugly?" Peter asked wryly.

Harry chuckled. "All I'm saying is that once they've plucked your unibrow, you might actually have a nice face or something."

Peter paused. "They're not REALLY going to use tweezers on me are they?" 

Harry looked at him pityingly. "Tweezers? No. But they're probably going to use wax." 

\---------------------------------------------

 

Peter had been pulled at, poked, waxed, groomed, and polished. He had been adorned with lotion, makeup, hair products, clear nail polish, cologne, new shoes, and a suit after trying on countless outfits. Of all the things, the cologne seemed the most pointless; no one would be able to _smell_ him through their television screen.

Halfway through, Aunt May had said she was going to meet with her bookclub. She said goodbye and left, and Peter sort of wished she would take him with her. 

In the end, he thought that the result did look nice, but he wan't exactly overly fond of the methods. He'd rather stick to his shower and then get dressed routine when it came to beauty and fashion. It was much simpler, and much, much less painful. 

"I just saw everyone head out. Are you all done? Wow, you clean up nice there, Pete." Harry said as he entered the living room, sounding appreciative of the change caused by so many peoples' efforts. He had been waiting in the kitchen, watching the television, because he had 'wanted it to be a surprise.' Aparantly he either trusted his employees' ability that much or just Peter's ability to intervene if it went South. "My car's waiting outside; let's go."

"Who has a car in New York? You. Of course you do." Peter teased, following him out the front door. 

"Just get in, would you?" Harry pulled open the door, gesturing inside. Peter obligingly went inside.

And came face to face with someone he didn't know.

"Um. Hello?" Peter offered hesitantly. Her eyes crinkled in either amusement or annoyance. He wasn't sure which. Peter looked to Harry as he climbed in the car as well. 

"Peter, Felicia." He introduced lazily. Peter gave an awkward wave. Felicia seemed to quickly glance him over, from his head to his toes, before smirking. It was... a bit unsettling. 

"You had Melinda, Thomas, AND Gerald work on him? You must have wanted to make him all dolled up, Mr. Osborn." 

"Uhhhh." Peter looked down at himself, trying to see if he had missed something that would be considered embarrassing. He wasn't exactly used to being called a 'doll.' He couldn't SEE anything wrong with his suit, but he couldn't exactly see his hair or face - his face that had makeup on it. It could be terrible, even though Peter hadn't really thought so when he looked in the mirror earlier. It could be smudged or something; that was more likely, since he remembered his reflection looking surprisingly really nice. 

Harry glared. "Don't worry; she can't tell who dressed you from a glance, Pete. The reason she knows is because she's the one who made the arrangements for them to be there."

Felicia seemed to eye Harry thoughtfully before saying, "My apologies, Mr. Parker, if I made you uncomfortable. It was in an attempt to tease Mr. Osborn, not you." 

Peter smiled. "No, it's fine. Wanting to tease Harry - THAT I can understand all too well." 

"I'm sure you manage to tease him much more easily than I ever could." She agreed. 

Harry coughed, looking out the car window. 

"If you don't mind me asking," She directed towards Peter. "Why did you write to him for four years? You know now that he wasn't getting your letters, but you must have thought he was just ignoring you."

Peter stared at her with wide eyes. "Um. I guess. I just. I."

"You don't have to answer, Pete!" Harry protested, looking embarrassed. 

"I suppose," Peter said slowly, "That I just missed him so much. And I wanted to tell him about my life, in case he still cared, so that he wouldn't miss anything when he cane back. I don't - I don't really know why. I mean, I stopped during freshman year because even I can take a hint after four years of no letters back." 

"Peter, I'm sorry." Harry looked stricken by that last sentence. 

"You've got nothing to apologize for, Har, nothing." 

Felicia looked thoughtful. As she was about to say something, the car pulled to a stop. 

They had arrived. 

 

\--------------------------------------------

"Good morning, New York. This press conference will be just a casual, 'Q' and 'A' that will also be airing on television later today across the country. I, Harry Osborn, will be hosting it, of course. But I've also brought reinforcements. Peter?" He called, which was his predetermined cue to step on stage. 

The audience began to screech wildly with delight and applause. Peter's eyes widened drastically at the response. 

"We're going to be answering some questions today." Harry continued on calmly, unfazed, after they had eventually settled down. "Let's begin. Why don't you pick a reporter to start with, Peter?"

"Al-riiight." He agreed hesitantly, eyeing the enormous line of reporters and feeling a bit lost. "I'll go with company loyalty, I suppose. Who's here from The Daily Bugle?"

A woman stepped forward to the reporter's platform that had been set up, a cameraperson and photographer following her. It was just a podium with a microphone attached, but Harry had said it would keep the journalists orderly. 

"Mr. Parker, thank you! Kendra Collins from The Daily Bugle! What was the primary emotion you felt when being reunited with Mr. Osborn?"

"Um." And that wasn't really an opportunity to say, 'Harry and I aren't dating!' 

"I guess," He eyed Harry nervously as Peter started his answer. "I was anxious at first. We hadn't seen each other at all in eight years. I didn't know if I'd be let through security, even. But, um, we kind of just got passed the awkwardness and now we're pretty close again."

"Speaking of close-" Peter could slap himself. He had really set himself up for that to be interpreted as something romantic, not just friendship. "Mr. Osborn, is it a relief to be together again after nearly a decade apart? What are your thoughts?"

Harry leaned forward on the wide podium that he and Peter shared with two microphones attached. "My life is certainly always better when Peter's in it. Being together after so long, it's a relief, yeah. And it's also gratifying because I've missed him for nearly a decade, and here he is. By my side."

"Next please!"

Peter's cheeks flushed pink. Oh boy. This was not going the way Peter had anticipated. Not at all. The next question, Peter decided, he would somehow state that they weren't dating. Even if it was as subtle as a ton of bricks. 

But, well, Peter's intentions and Peter's actions didn't always agree one hundred percent of the time. Or practically ever.

"Mr. Parker! What can you tell us about your ex-girlfriend making you decide to be gay?"

"Excuse you!" Peter protested, angrily. "I'm bi! Just because you think Harry and I are both guys in a relationship doesn't mean you should assume we're both gay!"

"Yeahhh," Harry drawled, slinging his arm over Peter's shoulder. "We're a couple of bi babes, actually." 

"Which," Peter continued unthinkingly, spurred on by righteousness and annoyance, "isn't a decision. It's just how we identify with the labels of sexuality that society has presented us, you know? Like, no one says 'your decision to be heterosexual.'" He mocked the reporter's earlier question. "So, I think people should just stop assuming people's sexuality and romantic orientation. Like, if you saw me with my ex - or Harry with all those models, people would assume that we were straight. Which isn't true. But now that you think I'm with a man, you think that my past relationship is just, what, a mistake? I seriously was in love with her. Sometimes I still am."

Peter shrugged in conclusion. "What I'm trying to say is that people need to be more open minded. Like, assume everyone's queer unless stated otherwise - or something. That it's the norm, not something ABnormal. I don't know. Just- something about the way people look at relationships and assume things needs to change."

There was absolute silence. And then. Thunderous applause erupted with hoots and hollers. Peter was baffled. What was even happening? He looked towards Harry for direction, but Harry just raised an eyebrow. What was that even supposed to mean? 

Finally, it seemed that everyone calmed down and remained quiet. Including Harry, so Peter was forced to talk. 

"Uhh, next question, please?"

 

\------------------------------------------------

As time carried on, Harry and Peter took turns answering open ended questions. Or, there were specific questions for either of them. Which, it always took Peter by surprise when people wanted to ask him something personally, not Harry. 

 

"Mr. Parker, how would you use your status as rising icon to better represent the LGBT community?" 

"I'm - I'm not a rising icon? But, I always think people should support the LGBTQIA community and things that help it. But, that's not really what you're probably asking, so - sorry?" 

"Follow up question! Why do you believe you're not a rising icon? Are you aware that you're currently a trending topic on Twitter?"

He shuffled anxiously, uncomfortably aware of all of the faces staring back at him. How did he explain that he - normal Peter Parker - would never feel like an icon? Spiderman, sure. But not plain ol' Peter Parker. 

"Peter," Harry interrupted the pause. "is a bit shy. Like I've said previously. And he is kind of oblivious to just how much people love him. He's something else, really, to be so oblivious, but that's the way he is."

"I've been raised with my face on newspapers and magazine, by tabloids following me before I could even walk." Harry continued. "Peter was raised by his aunt and uncle. It's just a bit unthinkable sometimes for Peter, who doesn't understand the limelight, that people are genuinely interested in him. He barely used to believe they were interested in ME back when we were kids." He joked, chuckling. 

"Harryyyy, why are you in the paper just for walking outside?" He said in an imitation of a young Peter. "Harryyy, why does this say you're bringing shame upon your family for brawling? Of course you have a black eye! You saved me from that bully after he pushed me off the swings. Why do they keep taking your picture? Can I take your picture? Harryyy, this says you're in an arranged marriage! Marry meeee, Har-ryyy!" 

"I did not say that last one, you jerk!" Peter protested hotly. 

"No? Hmm. Maybe I said it then. Or maybe I just dreamt about it." He dismissed easily. 

The remark cause a resounding 'aww' from the crowd. 

Peter rolled his eyes. 

\-----------------------------------------------

 

"Next question."

"I'm sure stockholders just want to clarify: how much of Mr. Osborn's money goes into your account? It's a legitimate concern!" The interviewer protested as the audience booed him.

"What do you think Harry is, my Sugar Daddy? Just - no." Peter scoffed. 

Harry frowned pensively. "You know, I could be, if you would just let me."

Peter sighed, pinching his nose in frustration. "I've told you before, Har, I don't want your money." 

Harry's next comment aimed for below the belt. "What about May? She could just work one job, if I pitched in a teensy bit. That doesn't sound so bad, right, Pete?" 

"Look," Peter said angrily, jabbing his finger in the middle of Harry's chest, causing him to wince. "The only thing Aunt May wants from you is for you to eat her spaghetti as she gives you the shovel talk." 

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Dinner, you idiot. I'm inviting you to dinner. Aunt May asked me to. The only things you need to bring are yourself and an appetite. Not - not your stupid money." 

At the end of Peter's rant, Harry's lips stretched into a wide grin. Uh oh. 

"So, your place after this then, not mine?" He asked, wickedly bemused. 

Peter sputtered and then blushed as people started to both catcall and cheer. Right, they had an audience. How did he forget about the thousands of people in front of them? And the thousands more watching at home?

Still embarrassed, Harry took advantaged and leaned forward into the microphone to speak. "I hope that answered your question. Next, please."

"Justine Mendez from Daily News. I'm sure as heir of Oscorp, you've clearly considered continuing the line. Are you two planning on surrogate or adoption in the future? Any plans for baby names?" 

Peter gaped and looked towards Harry in astonishment. He really, really should have known better by this point. 

"What do you think, Pete? Obviously we can't make babies the old-fashioned way. Well," Harry leered at him. "We can certainly try!" Peter's face flushed, but Harry only laughed. "Hmm, let's talk about our baby names! Something extravagant if we have a girl - like Chrysanthemum or something. And Ben, of course, if we have a boy."

Harry's teasing tone softened considerably at the end. Peter found himself incredibly touched - somehow by the prospect of their nonexistent future son's name, by his nonexistent boyfriend. 

"Ben, yeah, that - that sounds wonderful." Peter eyes were damp and he blinked furiously. Harry reached for his face, hesitated, and then continued on forward to brush away a tear that had escaped. Peter laughed, ducking his head. 

"I knew it would mean a lot to you, but I didn't think you'd cry all over me." The words were teasing, but the tone was tender. 

"Shut up!" Peter protested feebly. "You're the one who's stupidly thoughtful about our nonexistent son."

"So, as you can see - children are definitely not part of our plan as of yet. Thank you for the faith that we'll still be by each other's sides that long, though. Pete's a baby himself; he would not be able to handle raising a child when he himself is one. He still has an Einstein poster hanging in his bedroom, the nerd."

"I resent that! What does that even have to do with me being like a kid?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. I just like airing your embarrassing laundry to the public so they can understand that you're just a massively adorable dork. Speaking of embarrassed Peter! There was that one time he was totally convinced-"

He threw his hands over Harry's mouth hastily. "That's enough questions for today!" Peter exclaimed. Then he made a noise of disgust and withdrew his hands. "You licked me! Gross! And I'M the child?"

Harry smirked as he slowly licked his lips. The crowd grew noisier. Then he spoke, his voice dripping with filthy innuendo that made Peter gape. "Don't act like I've never licked you before. This was hardly the first time." 

Red faced, Peter managed to storm off stage without punching Oscorp's CEO on national television. Behind him, he could hear Harry's loud and authentic peals of laughter above the crowd's whooping and wolf whistles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've discovered that I have to write Harry as a huge flirt. At least, a huge flirt when he's talking to Peter. I have no clue why, but he just seems like he'd be the sort to unrepentantly flirt outrageously.
> 
> Also, I somehow also can't stop myself from trying to advocate LGBTA themes in their media interactions. Oh well.


	6. The Internet Put Flower Crowns On Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Peter Parker - The 'Bi Babe' That We All Deserve"
> 
> "Oh."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed by now, but I love you all so much. Thank you all for reading, subscribing, bookmarking, and/or commenting! You people are the sweetest! :)
> 
> I feel like I need to look up synonyms for 'glad' because I feel like that's a word I overuse now. But you all make me so happy that I can't help it.
> 
> I'm just so glad that everyone's reading and enjoying the story.

Peter had to come back onstage for some fifteen minutes to allow the press to take photos of him and Harry together. Standing together, not _together_ together, obviously. 

Harry had to be dropped off at Oscorp first. Then the car would drive around nonsensically for a bit to throw off anyone tailing them, and then they would finally drop Peter off back at his house. 

"See you around, Pete!" Harry said goodbye, grinning back at him as he left the car. 

And then it was just Peter - and Felicia. 

Peter awkwardly sat next to Felicia in silence. It seemed that, despite her earlier willingness to talk to him, she had now decided not to. Her stone-like face gave away none of her thoughts, and Peter couldn't understand what had changed from before, when Harry had been in the car. 

"Um - " Peter began hesitantly. Her cool eyes glanced over to him. An expression of impatience flickered through her impassive face. "Ah, never mind." He mumbled, shifting anxiously. 

She didn't say a word. 

This silence went on for at least an hour and a half. Peter fidgeted restlessly and pretended like everything in his life wasn't _totally weird._

\---------------------------------------------

His phone started ringing. He looked at and hastily put it away again.

It was Gwen. 

Nope, he decided. 

His phone started ringing again as Gwen must have called back. He resolutely did not answer. He refused to. 

It stopped. 

And started to ring _again._

Felicia eyed him. Judging him for not answering. With each second, her eyeballs seemed to pierce his skull more and more. 

"Are you going to answer that?" She finally asked in a clipped voice, her eyebrows rising in _pure judgement._

"Uhhhh."

Peter debated just switching his phone on silent, but he felt like the contemptuous looks he was receiving would only increase. He had to confront either his avoidance of Gwen or the frosty demeanor of Felicia, and at least Gwen liked him. He plucked the phone out of his suit pocket as it started to ring again. 

"I'm kind of insulted that your daughter isn't named after me. You should really talk to Harry about that." Gwen stated faux casually. 

"Whatever happened to hello?" He sighed.

"Okay. Hello. Now tell me more about how you're _not_ dating Harry Osborn? The one who just basically propositioned you on stage?"

"Gwen," He moaned pitifully into the phone. "I know that it was terrible. You didn't have to call just to tell me that it was a massive failure."

"Hey, it's not all bad! At least you're the bi babe that we all deserve."

"Wha - _what?_ " Peter asked in bewilderment.

Gwen cackled. Cackled! "Oh, you haven't been online yet, have you?"

Oh no. The internet. He hadn't even thought of that. He'd been too busy being caught up in all the chaos. Peter was definitely not looking forward to the _internet's_ reaction. Peter's name was probably searchable on all the search engines now. He let out a miserable groan. 

"I'll send you all my favorite links." Gwen promised. 

"No, that - that's okay." He said awkwardly. "You really don't have to do that."

"Oh I know." She answered gleefully. 

Some how, Peter had a very bad feeling about this. He stared at his phone, the "call ended" seeming like an forbidding sign. He sighed and looked upwards, as if the car's ceiling wold hold the answers to all his current dilemmas. Across from him, he noticed, Felicia raised her eyebrows but didn't say a word. 

\---------------------------------------------

Ten minutes later, Peter was finally home. And - just as she had promised she would - Gwen had sent him a text with a list of links in it. He stared at it, hoping that it couldn't be that bad. And - Peter winced at his phrasing of that thought - did Peter learn nothing about jinxing himself? Hopefully, he'd be fine anyways. 

Or, maybe he should just go do... something else. And pretend like the internet _wasn't_ actually talking about him.

Peter clicked the first link, which, he really shouldn't have. He exclaimed in shock as he stared at his own face. As a GIF on tumblr.

The internet had decided that hey, do you know what Peter Parker and Harry Osborn needed? Flower crowns upon their head. 

They had also edited actual hearts - pink hearts - to hover where Harry's eyes locked with Peter's, between their heads. 

The caption read: Bi babes <3

The amount of reposts were staggering. Should he - dare he - even look at the comments? 

He took a quick glance. 

His face burned. 

\----------------------------------------------

Things were ranged but pretty much had the same type of comments. That is, to say, appreciation for some aspect or another's apparent cuteness. 

"Literally the cutest couple"

"Actual husbands"

"Bi babes? More like be MY babes. I love these two. So. Much." 

"Harry Osborn's Face: How dare you insult bi people?! My husband is bi! (I am too, but I must fight for my husband's honor)"

\---------------------------------------------

The last link - after a long bout of embarrassments from the other things on the list - led him to a website that wasn't a social media platform; it was an online article.

"Peter Parker - The 'Bi Babe' That We All Deserve" The headline read in bold. 

"Oh."

Clearly, this is what Gwen had been referencing in their earlier conversation.

Maybe he was starting to understand the whole 'he was a rising icon' thing. There was an article about him online that his friend had used as a reference, expecting him to understand it. Yeah, he had to admit to himself, he was just a bit more famous than he had originally thought. 

The article was an actual article, a serious article. Written by an actual journalist. About him. About how great it was that Peter had done something as simple as defend his sexuality, but it apparently meant a lot to a lot of people. 

He somehow - in the middle of this chaotic misunderstanding - had been able to do good. Had made a difference in people's lives. 

As Peter Parker. 

"Oh." He murmured softly, feeling the swell of pride in his chest start to rise warmly.

Maybe it wasn't nearly equivalent to going out as Spiderman and saving people, but it still seemed like Peter was helping people somehow. Just by being himself, he was inspiring others. Sure, he wasn't saving the city; but, clearly, he was doing _something._

\----------------------------------------------

Peter needed to do _something._ He was getting cabin fever. 

Even being Spiderman didn't help. There were only so many times that he could go out patrolling as Spiderman and have absolutely nothing happen. 

Peter needed to leave the house _as Peter Parker._

So on yet _another_ boring, fruitless Spiderman patrol, he spent some time taking photos of himself web-slinging across the city. 

And then he developed them and headed over to The Daily Bugle to sell them. 

(And even though he wore a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes, a jacket with the hood pulled up, _and_ sunglasses, he was recognized three times on his way there. What was his life? 

\------------------------------------------------

"Hello, Lorraine." Peter greeted cheerfully.

"Peter!" She gasped, looking up from her work. "You - I saw - congratulations!" Her face turned blotchy and red. 

"Um, thank you?" Peter asked, unsure of what she was congratulating him on. "Is Jameson in?" 

She looked between him and Jameson's door old with a strangely panicked look. 

"Oh, uh, are you - are you _sure_ that you want to see Jameson right now?" She asked nervously. 

"That's... kind of why I came." Peter shrugged, a bit surprised at her odd reaction. 

"If you're sure then..." She still eyed him dubiously, but she went over to Jameson's office and knocked on the door. 

"What?" He barked out.

She hesitated but then said, "There a photographer that's here to see you."

"Who is it? No, just send 'em in."

And she hurried back to her desk with a flustered gesture towards Peter to indicate that he could go in the office. She watched him go inside with nervous eyes. 

Then she flinched as she heard Jameson's enraged cry come from inside. 

"PARKER!!!"

\----------------------------------------------

"What in the blazes are you doing here?!" Jameson asked, after his wild bellow. 

"I have some Spiderman pictures that I thought were good." Peter answered, handing over an envelope of pictures and placing it on his desk. He was now wishing that he had just emailed the pictures instead, like he normally did.

Jameson stared at him. 

"Spiderman. You think that I want pictures of _Spiderman?!_ " Jameson roared. He threw the manilla envelope back at Peter without even opening it. 

"The biggest." He continued, stabbing his finger in the air accusingly. "Story of the goddamn year. And MY photographer is caught up in the middle of it, and doesn't have the damn decency to tell me about it!" Jameson ranted, his unlit cigar threatening to fall out of his nearly frothing mouth. "It's your damn personal life, so you ought to know all the details! I could have had an exclusive before every other damn paper. But YOU decided to not tell The Bugle! What for? What do have to say for yourself, Parker - and it better be good!"

Peter stared at him for a moment before saying incredulously, "You're angry with me because you believe I didn't think my personal life belonged in the newspapers?" 

Jameson huffed. "As an employee of this company, you have no personal life. Everything belongs to the Bugle. If you SNEEZE, and Harry Osborn offers you his handkerchief, I want you to tell me about it. I want THOSE goddamn photos, not _Spiderman!_ " 

"What" Peter mouthed soundlessly, a bit shocked. 

"You think that I can let the other papers get ahead? You're my connection; now give me the scoop, Parker! Give me something I can print here!" 

"Um." Peter wracked his brain on how to respond and came up blank. "Harry and I aren't actually dating?" He offered and winced as it came out questioningly. 

There was silence. 

"Get the hell out of my office, Parker!" Jameson dismissed angrily, gesturing wildly to the door, cigar flailing dangerously. "And don't come back until you have the inside scoop!"

As Peter was scurrying out the door, he heard Jameson snort to himself. 

"Not dating? What a sense of humor." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the long-awaited Jameson confrontation! I hope it didn't disappoint and lived up to everyone's expectations.
> 
> Also, I've said that Peter is bisexual in the last chapter because I thought it would be 'easier' to use a term that everyone recognizes. But now I went back and put "bi" because I feel like I shouldn't compromise what I envisioned him as. I see Peter as being biromantic. (And maybe I'm a bit biased, but, hey.) 
> 
> The tags now reflect that Peter's biromantic. Harry is the referenced bisexual character in the tags. Together, they're "Bi Babes"


	7. You Make Me Sick(er than I Already Am)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's sick. Lovesick! 
> 
> But he's also actually very ill. 
> 
> (AKA the originally fluffy chapter that somehow turned into this)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor angst in this chapter. Harry's illness - which is canon in TASM - is mentioned. That illness is angsty for many reasons, but one reason referenced in this chapter is that it's a fatal illness that's going to kill Harry eventually. Hence, insert angst.

The press and media did eat Peter up with a spoon, exactly like Harry had envisioned. Everyone seemed to simply adore Peter. Harry had been confident that they would, but it was a relief to actually know. 

Because Harry was now the CEO of Oscorp, it was a huge deal that Harry was bisexual; all sorts of papers were discussing it. In the past, a couple of Harry's dates with guys had solely been covered by minor gossip rags and always had been labeled as "hanging out," not dates. But now that he had confirmed it, people were taking his sexuality seriously, which was an unintended bonus. And - most importantly - they were taking his position as CEO seriously whereas some people before had been uncertain.

Anyone that now currently opposed Harry had to battle all of his many, many supporters in order to insult him. Harry had support from all sorts of people now, and any naysayers stood practically no chance at being louder than all the positive support. Which was exactly what Harry had hoped and planned for. 

What he hadn't foreseen was the public's reverent and feverish support for Harry and Peter _together,_ but that, too, was just an added bonus. Perhaps Peter would be able to take a hint. Or, at least, at least Harry now knew that Peter was also bi whereas before he had to wonder. Harry now stood some semblance of a chance to woo Peter. 

And that's what Harry planned on doing. If he could gather up the nerve. 

But that's what bravado was for, right? Fake it until you make it - and all that. Or, Harry thought in amusement, fake it until you make out. 

\--------------------------------------------

"You, me, lunch? Without your manservents please, if you can handle that. (;" 

The sudden text from Peter put a smile on Harry Osborn's formerly serious face. 

"Clear my schedule for lunch, would you, Felicia?" Harry asked, still stating at his phone with a smile. "Actually, just give me the entirety of tomorrow afternoon off." 

"I don't think you should go see Peter." She advised solemnly. 

He looked up. "Excuse me?" 

"I don't think you should keep up this charade." Felicia said calmly. 

"I don't recall asking for your opinion." Harry was just as calm as she was, but his eyes flashed in his sudden anger. 

Felicia's own eyes narrowed. "You always ask for my opinion, and so I always offer it. Well, here it is: end whatever you have or don't have with Peter before this company gets hurt." 

"I really don't have to listen to you." Harry snapped, swiveling his chair around childishly so that he didn't have to face her. 

"But you should." She said firmly. "Otherwise this company might get hurt. You might get hurt. _Peter_ might get hurt." Harry turned slightly at the mention of Peter's name instinctively before flinching away. "If not for the sake of the company, consider Peter." 

"And how exactly am I harming Peter?" Harry murmured quietly, his fingers shaking on his knees. He clutched on to the material of his pant leg. 

"How aren't you?" She asked coyly. 

They were both silent. 

"I'll clear up your lunch schedule, Mr. Osborn." Felicia quietly affirmed. Her heels clicked across the floor as she walked away. 

Harry called out, "Felicia, wait, I - " But she was already gone. 

Harry groaned, and rubbed his forehead. Then he realized that he still hadn't replied yet to Peter. He deliberated. 

"Sure," He wrote eventually. "But either I'm buying or it's not happening." 

The next message was immediate. "D: Harryyy" 

But then Peter sent another message. "Fine. -_- See ya tomorrow (:" 

"You really are a dork." Harry replied, and he sincerely meant it. But, he was still stupidly grateful for the stupidly dorky emojiis that Peter has typed. Especially that last one. 

\-------------------------------------------

His left hand was shaking. Trembling. Harry grasped it tightly with his hand, truing to stop the tremors. But it just made his hand awkwardly jerk from underneath his sweaty palm. 

Nowadays, Harry's hand would temble periodically with spontaneous bursts of tremulous shaking that would last for minutes at a time. His illness - the Osborn Curse - was progressing. And it was progressing at a rate that was alarming. 

Harry eyed the scaly patch on his neck with self-loathing and terror. With his gently shaking fingers, he quietly wrapped a scarf around his neck to cover up any evidence of being ill. He stared at himself - pale and haunted looking - as his reflection still betrayed how sick he was becoming. The reddish purple bags under his eyes made him look exhausted and only emphasized his current wan palor. 

It was enough to make Harry terrified. 

And it wasn't like he could just say that he was scared. 

Or that he needed help. 

That he was so, so _scared,_ and he didn't know what to _do._

He couldn't say any of it. 

It stayed trapped inside of him, just like everything else. That, Harry thought angrily, was also a part of the Osborn Curse.

\-------------------------------------------

"Peter." He greeted, smiling. 

"Hey, Harry!" Peter responded, jovial and warm as he approached; he was everything that Harry adored and everything that Harry wasn't. 

And, really, how else were the paparazzi supposed to interept Peter's beaming smile? When Peter looked at Harry like that, he could pretend - just for a moment - that they really were in a relationship together. 

"Where are we off to, Harry?" Peter asked, bumping his shoulder playfully. 

Harry tried not to analyze the brief flash of warmth that seeped through both their coats when Peter's shoulder met his. It was only a road that led to unhappiness. 

"I thought we could go out to eat, catch up a bit while I was on my lunch break." He deliberately neglected to mention that he specifically had Felicia allot time for this excursion and postpone all interferences. There was no reason for Peter to know that. Or to know how much Harry would move, how much he would give up, to spend some time with Peter. It was best if Peter just viewed this as happenstance. 

Peter's face lit up, in the wonderful, eager way that he always did. "Yeah! That sounds good!" 

"Come on. My treat."

Peter opened his mouth, about to protest, but Harry cut him off. "C'mon, Pete. You paid last time. You _promised_ I could pay this time." 

Peter paused. "I did, didn't I? Well I _guess_ then." He grinned teasingly. 

Harry smiled in return. "That's right; let me be your Sugar Daddy." Peter made a noise of shock and shoved at Harry in indignation as Harry snickered wildly. "Peter." He said, still amused, as Peter began walking away quickly. "It was a _joke._ Peeeeteeer." Harry huffed, and he quickly jogged after him - something that Osborns simply did not do. Peter looked at him, slyly. 

"How sorry are you? He asked, his tone mischievous. 

Harry was instantly wary. "It...depends." 

Peter grinned widely.

\------------------------------------------

"Please." Harry was now not above begging. "Peter, have mercy."

"You are such a drama queen." Peter laughed, not sympathizing in the least with Harry's pain. 

"Peter." Harry groaned. "I can't eat anymore."

"Harry." Peter mimicked his exasperated tone, smiling as he mocked him. "C'mon. The next food truck has grilled cheese and tacos _put together._ Grilled tacos. Taco grills? Cheesy Gracos. Grill-tacos?" 

"Peter." Harry lamented. "Shut up."

"Anyways," Peter continued, disregarding Harry's obvious suffering. "It's sure to be delicious." He looked at Harry hopefully, eyes sparkling. 

Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly with three of his fingers. "Fine! Fine, we'll go to our twelfth food truck." 

Peter beamed. "You're the best, Harry!" 

And, well. Harry could handle another bite or two before he discretely threw away yet another meal he was far too full for. The look on Peter's face was worth it. 

But damn if Peter's stomach wasn't a black hole. 

Harry didn't know how Peter could eat so _much_ or where he even put the titanic amount of food that he had consumed. But, as long as he was happy, Harry supposed. 

And judging by the wide smile on his face, Peter _was_ happy. And, really, that's all it took to make Harry happy tok. 

\--------------------------------------------

Wafels & Dinges was parked innocently on the road. Harry's incredibly full stomach hurt just looking and smelling the food. Peter merely looked excited as he approached the line. 

"I think I want the pulled pork." Peter mused. 

"One pulled pork wafel." Harry ordered obediently. The food truck worker nodded. 

"I'm going to get two!" Peter decided. "I can't not get a dessert waffle. Breakfast waffle?" He wondered, pausing to find the correct terminology. "Non-dinner waffle." He decided with some finality. 

"Alright." Harry agreed easily. 

"So one pulled pork wafel and... what else?" The food truck worker questioned. 

"And a brussels wafel with... um, let's see..." Peter hummed thoughtfully as he scanned the options. "With strawberry, hot fudge, bananas, whipped cream, walnuts, vanilla ice cream and the dulce de leche sauce too please." 

Harry stared at Peter in amazement. "I can not believe that you're still that hungry. This is our seventeenth food truck visit!" 

"I'm a growing boy?" Peter said questioningly. 

"Um. Sir?" The food truck worker asked doubtfully to Harry to check if the order was still okay.

He waved them on. "Yeah, yeah, just let him have it. Geez, Pete, are you trying to try all of them or something?" 

Peter smiled sheepishly. "I just want to try _most_ of them! Like, I've never been to this truck before, and I _live_ in Forest Hills! I'm just... excited I guess." 

Harry sighed. "Like I said: geez. You're just a massive dork. We don't have to try them all in one day, you complete and utter dork." 

Peter laughed. "I guess not. We'll have lots of time together now, huh?" 

And Harry's eyes widened. 

They didn't. They didn't have the endless time that Peter imagined they did. Harry's time - Harry's _life_ was oh-so very limited. How could he forget that, even for a split second? Harry's hands curled into trembling fists. Harry wanted to have that endless time with Peter. He didn't want to disillusion Peter from their future together. Harry wanted to _create_ a future for them together. Most of all, Harry wanted more time. More time for himself. More time to spend with Peter.

Harry Osborn _didn't want to die._

"Peter - " He paused, cutting himself off as he remembered his very public surroundings. "Yeah. Yeah, we do." He agreed, and his smile felt extremely hollow on his face. "We've got all the time in the world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From my understanding, Wafels & Dinges is a food truck in Queens, New York - specially in Forest Hills. Forest Hills is where supposed to be Aunt May's house is, according to canon. So the boys ended their food truck adventure with one closer to Peter's house. Shoutout to Ms_Moon21 for being the inspiration being the food trucks. 
> 
> I don't live in New York so forgive me if any information is confused or confusing.
> 
> (And this is why we can't have nice things. I _intended_ to just write a short, fluffy chapter of them hanging out on a nearly-date. But no; I had to have angst for some unknown reason.)


	8. "Maybe Next Time He'll Think"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has his first scandal. 
> 
> It's not really a big deal, except it also is. But not for the reasons you may think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear I had an outlined, organized plot for this story, but it's somehow just taken a complete life of its own. (Help.)
> 
> ALSO I'm so sorry because this chapter was supposed to be fluffy because the last chapter was kind of sad, but lol NOPE all aboard the feels train everyone.

"Can I ask _why_ you're paying me to do. this?" The young man asked as he accepted the manilla envelope full of cash. He opened it and peered in, giving a low whistle. 

The businessman sneered, straightening his cufflinks haughtily. "No. You may not ask." 

The young man shrugged. "Whatever. It's your money. I'm happy to help." He closed the envelope and then began to walk away. 

"You know what I expect of you, right?" The older man asked urgently. 

"Sure I do." The younger man verified in a drawl. 

\-------------------------------------------

Peter entered the grocery store, mentally going through the list that Aunt May had needed. There was... apples. He knew for sure that she wanted those. And, maybe, tomatoes? Did they need tomatoes? He winced. Okay, maybe he should have written the list down. He was _pretty_ sure that cereal and milk were on the list as well. Maybe also bread? 

Peter browsed the aisle shelves thoughtfully, trying to recollect what his aunt had told him to get. At the time, he had been a bit distracted by his eagerness to leave the house, but he _had_ been listening. It was the two hour Spiderman detour that had made him forgetful of what _exactly_ he was supposed to be getting. 

"Oh, excuse me." Peter said, surprised, as he almost walked in to someone as he turned a corner. The guy, that was about his age, just smiled and waved him off. 

And, of course, Peter thought to himself, he still needed to grab the organic eggs. Aunt May was nearly always expecting him to, after all. 

As he was pondering on which type of butter to get - salted, unsalted, cream? - the same guy walked by him. Except, as he was just passing Peter, he suddenly tripped, falling towards both Peter and the ground. 

"Whoa there!" Peter exclaimed, as he quickly caught the young man before he fell and hit the floor. 

"Thank you so much!" He said loudly, leaning up into his face and exhaling into it. Peter discretely leaned away, even when his one hand firmly grabbed Peter's biceps in a steely grip. The other hand dangled from the arm wrapped tightly around Peter's shoulders and neck. The pose was almost reminiscent of a dancer being dipped. Peter tried to straighten up, tried also to straighten the other man upright; but it seemed to take him a couple moments to get his bearings. Meanwhile, he seemed to take that opportunity to cling on to Peter almost gropingly. 

"No problem? Listen," Peter said uncomfortably when after a while he still didn't let go. "I'm glad you're okay, but I have groceries to get, you know?" 

"Oh, of course!" The man finally stood upright on his own, even though his arms were still draped around Peter. 

"Well," Peter gave an awkward smile. "I'm glad you're okay. But, uh, goodbye."

The young man nodded, removing his arm slowly. And then, as Peter was turning around to leave, the man quickly pressed his lips against Peter's cheek in a fleeting kiss. 

He really should have just let him fall, Peter thought wryly as his face flushed.

The audacity of some people. Peter couldn't believe that a mere stranger would do that. In the middle of the grocery store! Peter decided that his handbasket of groceries was definitely adequate, even if he was probably still missing stuff from the list; he just wanted to hightail it home and die of mortification when he was _not in public okay_. Aunt May would absolutely forgive him for skimping on a couple thing in this situation, he was sure. 

\------------------------------------------

"Harry Osborn is getting too arrogant." Someone sneered to someone else, as they met together secretly. "We need to _do something!_ Before problems arise." 

"Problems have already arisen." The second man said, scowling. 

The first man narrowed his eyes. "I'm talking about _real_ problems, Donald. The kind where the Osborn brat gets too nosy for his own good and stumbles across something that he shouldn't." 

"Relax." Donald Menken scoffed. "The kid's got no clue what the council's up to." 

"You mean what's left of the council." The first man snapped. "If he fires more of us..." He paused. "Something needs to be done about Harry Osborn. We need to put him back in line. _Now._ " 

"It's being taken care of." He said with a frown. 

"But _how?_ " The other man demanded. We need to make sure that we have a good plan; you shouldn't have just rushed in and done something without consulting all of us!" 

Donald clenched his fists at the scolding. "That's easy for you to say - to wait. But, unlike you, _I_ was ejected from the council and don't have the luxury of being able to wait." The last word was said with a tremendous scoff. 

The other man frowned. "Of course you were one of the first ones dismissed. You led the group demanding that Norman be declared legally incompetent and insane in an attempt to void his will. Of course Norman's son would hold a grudge." 

His fists clenched even harder. "But I wasn't fired because of that." He spat out. "It was because I insulted his newest boy toy."

The other man's eyes widened slightly. "Really?" 

"And that's why," He said, much more calmly than before, "My plan is going to work." 

"And... what is your plan?" He asked when it became clear that the man wasn't going to say more without being prompted. 

Donald Menken grinned. "Discredit the boy toy. Oscorp's stockholders won't want their new CEO in the middle of a scandal. Harry also will have to deal with the fallout and potentially a breakup, leaving him vulnerable. That's when we'll take over." 

"What did you have in mind?" 

"It's not what I have in mind." He stated, as his phone chimed. He checked his text and then smirked wickedly in triumph. "It's what had already been _done._ "

\---------------------------------------------

Peter whistled cheerfully as he carried his groceries down the empty sidewalk. 

"Mr. Parker?" Someone called out, and he turned to look. 

A woman was running towards him, heels clicking against concrete, her eyes eager. 

"Um." Peter said intelligently. 

"I'm a local reporter, looking for the _facts,_ Mr. Parker. Not just the rumors or whatever people are saying." She quickly explained in one breath. Peter nodded hesitantly as she paused expectantly. 

"That's nice?" He offered. "Facts are usually better than not-facts." He smiled. She nodded sharply, taking out a notebook and tugging loose a pen from the front pocket on her shirt. 

"Exactly!" She agreed triumphantly. "Do you mind if I ask you a quick question or two?" 

Peter kind of looked at his groceries pointedly. "I really have to be going..." 

"I'll walk with you! Walk and talk!" She matched his stride easily, determined. 

"Um, sure." He agreed after a moment. "You can ask, but I don't know if I'll answer, you know?" 

"Thank you! That's great - and I completely understand!" She nodded. 

Then she asked her first question. 

"What do you have to say about your new boyfriend?"

And this was it, Peter realized. 

The moment of truth.

This was when he could tell the truth, finally put all of the rumors to rest. He could just explain that it was exactly that - rumors. This was it. 

He could do it. Peter gathered his words together. He took a deep breath, and then he attempted to tell the truth, finally correcting everyone's misapprehension. 

"We're not actually dating." Peter said calmly. She started scribbling something down on her notepad. He paused, hands feeling clammy around the cloth handles of his grocery bags. The reporter nodded encouragingly. "There never was anything between us. It was all just - just a big misunderstanding. I don't know how it got started, or why people took it seriously."

The reporter looked thoughtful. 

"And does Harry know that it was just a misunderstanding?" She asked, in less of a prying voice and more leaning towards gentle. 

Peter nodded. "I think that he's probably a bit amused by it, actually." Peter shrugged. "He didn't seem to think that we even needed to talk about it."

The reporter appeared tremendously relieved. Which, Peter thought, was a bit odd. 

Later on, while looking back in hindsight, Peter realized why that was.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Parker." She said kindly. "That's all that I really need." 

"Oh, sure, no problem." Peter shrugged, and one of his bags slipped down his shoulder a bit. The reporter chuckled, and then adjusted it for him. "Oh thanks." He said, grinning. 

He kept walking, even as she stayed standing there, watching him. She gripped her notebook tightly. "Thank you." She murmured, beyond relieved at his answers and at his polite, friendly countenance. 

She had just knew the new rumor couldn't have been true. She had just known it. 

\------------------------------------------

"Peter." Gwen said urgently. "Have you seen the news today?" 

He paused. She hadn't sounded amused; she had sounded worried. "No? Why?" 

Gwen audibly sucked in a sharp breath. "Peter. Don't leave your house. I'm on my way." 

"I've left it already today, and nothing happened." Peter was confused. "Gwen. What's going on?" 

There was a moment of quiet on the end of the receiver. "Peter," She sounded odd. "A couple of magazines - they're saying you cheated on Harry." 

The sentence was shocking. " _What?_ " He gasped incredulously. 

"People are really upset about it." Gwen continued. "Just - stay inside."

"Oh no." Peter realized. 

"Peter? What's wrong?"

"I think..." Peter said slowly, in disbelief that this was now his life. "That I might have accidentally given an interview about it." 

"Stay put." Gwen reiterated. "I'm coming over." And then she immediately hung up.

\-------------------------------------------

Gwen showed up at his house and quickly looked him over when she entered, as if making sure that he was unharmed.

"Don't go on the internet." She warned him, and, okay, really? 

"It's that bad?" Peter asked in horror. 

She shook her head, her blonde ponytail swinging softly. "No. But people's reactions are pretty ugly right now. The magazines themselves are pretty tame. Here." She pulled one from her purse and handed it to Peter for him to inspect. 

Of _course_ he had to be on the front page. Along with celebrity divorces. Was this really his life now? What, was it a slow news day? And then Peter blinked, surprised, as he fully registered exactly what it was that he was seeing. 

The magazine showed Peter with a man wrapped all around him, arms seemingly holding him like a lover would. The way that Peter dipped him, and the man gazed up at him was reminiscent of a Disney princess or a damsel in distress or something. 

Peter stared at the 'incriminating' picture in disbelief. It was him, in the grocery store. The grocery store that he had practically just left, a little over two hours ago. _This had just happened_ and yet it didn't really happen - not in the way that the magazine thought. 

The front cover read, "Harry Osborn's Boyfriend - Caught CHEATING?" 

Peter let out a hysterical laugh since _neither of those things were true._

"Explain." Gwen said simply, no accusation in her voice, only weariness. 

"I - that - he -" Peter took a breath and then started over. "The guy fell, and I caught him. He wouldn't let go, but I didn't think that some magazine would get a picture of it! And say - say that _I'm cheating on Harry!_ " He finished, his voice raising in pitch. 

"It's not just one magazine." She said, and pulled out two different ones from her purse. The had similar photos and captions. 

"What?" Peter gaped. "But this just happened _this morning!_ " 

Gwen looked at him sharply. 

"This morning?" She asked. "Are you sure?"

Peter nodded, still staring at the image in shock. 

"Yeah, I mean, when you called me, I was on my way back from the store." He said. 

Gwen's eyebrows furrowed. "That's not right."

"Uhh." He looked up. "It is? That's when you called?" 

"No, not you." She waved him off. "The timeline. The magazines. It doesn't add up. How did they get the photo, write the article, print it, and distribute it so quickly? It doesn't add up. I know it's a trashy article in a gossip rag, but that still takes time."

"Oh." He realized, seeing her point. "If it just happened this morning..."

"Then they were ready for it." She surmised with a frown. "Someone must have tipped them off, and they just were waiting for the picture, article already written, and then they just printed them off quickly."

"Still, though..." Peter muttered. "It doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" Her eyes flickered over to look at his pensive face. 

"How did they know that they'd get a picture?" 

"The guy that tripped," Gwen said slowly, "He must have been in on it. You said that he was clingy and wouldn't let you go? That's why. He was giving sometime more time to get the scoop." 

Peter shook his head. "No. This is too - too weird. Why would anyone - what could anyone possibly gain from taking all that planning just to stage something like this?" 

Gwen shrugged easily. "Money." 

He waited, but that's all she said. "You've got to be kidding me." He groaned. "People are accusing me of cheating on the boyfriend that I don't have just because good gossip pays well?" 

"Why else would they?" 

Peter didn't have an answer. 

"You know what this means, don't you?" She asked, staring at him somberly. 

"Uh, that people are the worst?"

"That you constantly have to be cautious of where and when you become Spiderman. People are watching you, Peter."

He inhaled sharply at that. 

"That's just hunky dory." He grumbled. 

"Hunky dory?" She asked, her lips rising into an amused smile. 

"What? No. Shut up." Peter's face was bright red as Gwen laughed at him. 

It was nice to see her laugh, especially since she had been so serious and worried only mere seconds ago. 

Peter clenched his hands into fists. 

It wasn't bad enough that his life as Spiderman was making her worry about him, now his life as _Peter Parker_ was suddenly cause for concern. He hated that. There were supposed to be clear lines that divided his two identities. _Peter_ was supposed to not worry anyone. Peter was supposed to be safe. 

But when did his life ever go as he expected it to? 

\--------------------------------------

"I'm applying to a college in Oxford." Gwen suddenly confessed, her mouth twisting nervously. 

Peter froze. Gwen stared at him, wide-eyed, waiting for him to respond. The shock running through him made him take a moment before he could even _think,_ let alone speak. He stared back at her, his own eyes just as wide. Finally, he could fumblingly open his mouth, although his brain still felt somewhat disconnected from the situation. 

"That's - that's great. Wow." Peter tried to say, but it came out sounding hollow. "No, that's cool. Yeah." 

"Yeah." She murmured." 

He paused. "England, though - really?" 

Gwen frowned. "Yeah, it - it just sounded like a good opportunity, you know? And the timing, I think... well, it's good. We're in a good place - you and I. I think it'd be easier if we just made our separation a little cleaner, a little firmer by actually being apart, you know?" She explained softly. "It's a clean break that way instead of..." 

"Instead of this." Peter finished quietly. Gwen nodded. 

"I think you should also take it as an opportunity to grow, to experience life without me. You should date other people. I'm your first girlfriend, right?" 

"What? No. I've dated other people." Peter protested weakly. 

"Oh really?" Gwen said, already catching on that he was fibbing. "Name one."

"I've dated...I've dated Mary Jane Watson." Peter said finally after a long pause. 

"Mary Jane is a lesbian." Gwen stated bluntly, unimpressed. 

"Is she?" Peter asked in surprise. "I did not know that." 

"The things you learn about people when you _actually_ date them like I did." Gwen quipped, amused. 

Peter groaned. "Of _course_ the one person I manage to think of happens to be one of _your_ exes, ugh." 

Gwen smirked. "You're a terrible liar, Peter. "You should really just stop trying." She advised him. 

"I really, really should." He agreed. 

Then, after a moment, Peter sighed. "So. England, huh?" He asked wearily.

"England huh." Gwen confirmed, her smile turning a bit melancholy.

Peter ducked his head down; his attempt at a smile came out as more of a grimace.

\------------------------------------------

Felicia refused to meet his eyes. She would look over his head, slightly to the side, or would even just face in a different direction when talking. 

Harry groaned, rubbing at his temples. 

Wherever these _trash_ magazines had gotten the picture, it was undeniably Peter. Maybe it was old picture of him with an ex? He just didn't know why the tabloids would be trying to stir up trouble about _Peter_ when there was so much worse about Harry out there that was caught on film. 

And Felicia, who had predicted an upcoming scandal, had also been surprised at just how quickly one had arrived. It only made her angrier; because all of her voiced concerns that Harry had blew off were proven to be justified. Maybe not for the reason she had originally thought, but there was a scandal that she knew would happen. Even if it was about something other than them faking it, she had known something would occur eventually. Eventually, evidentially, happened way too soon in both of their opinions. 

So she had been passive aggressively ignoring Harry without actually ignoring him; she simply refused to look at him. As if she couldn't even bear the sight of him. 

And Harry, while he understood her reaction, was getting pissed off the more it went on. 

The anger over the photograph, the anger over the possibility that someone might be involved with Peter, the anger that it might all be lies, the anger that Felicia had been right and Harry wished so desperately that she wasn't, the anger that she wouldn't look at him because she was so vindicated in her own anger of being ignored - 

It was all snowballing downhill into this festering fury that Harry couldn't ignore. 

The USB drive - the useless memento of his useless father - twirled anxiously between his fingers. 

His shaking fingers. 

It shouldn't really have been a surprise that his hand would suddenly just _stop_ \- halt like it couldn't figure out how to _work_ anymore, scaring Harry more than he was willing to admit. It wasn't really a surprise because it had been a long time coming, and yet it _was._ He stared at his useless hand until he gingerly was able to move his fingers again, curling the trembling appendages softly. 

By the time he had noticed where the device had landed, all the anger had fled in the wake of that overwhelming terror of just a few moments. His scattered thoughts, racing heart, and wounded disposition took in the sight before him. 

"What the hell." He whispered, eyes darting back and forth across the images displayed on his desk. 

 

He used his good hand to hesitantly swipe at the list, unveiling layers and layers of - of what? 

Projects? Secrets? Whatever Norman had intended for him to find? _Something that could save Harry's life?_

Then his own name jumped at him from the corner of the screen. With his fingers, he zoomed in to enlarge it. That's when he noticed his own signature of approval, obviously forged by someone. It wasn't just this one time either, he learned, as he hastily began scrolling through feverishly. It was on things that he had never heard of, never had seen. The emotions going through Harry sent him reeling backwards in astoundment and fear. What did this mean? What did it all mean? 

He stumbled across something labeled Ravencroft. He opened it. And he watched as, under his seal of approval, people were being tortured in the name of 'science.' 

And then it was all gone. Hidden away under flashing lights and unauthorized denials. And who the hell had more authority than Harry Osborn in Oscorp? Harry felt ill and wrongfooted, and his entire viewpoints were shifting as the stability of his life seemed to crumble all around him. Did he really know anything at all? 

Here he thought that he was being so clever, so cunning, and there was someone else out there that was already steps ahead of him. Was he merely a puppet? Who was pulling the strings? 

Harry thought that he was going to be sick. 

The doors to his office swung open, and Harry looked up. 

Felicia met his eyes for the first time in two days. 

"I tried to stop them, Mr. Osborn, but they were - insistent -" 

He waved her off. "You may go." His voice sounded off, rough like he'd been dehydrated for too long. 

She gave him a concerned look, the emoted expression on her face more telling to Harry about how apparent his distress was.

Great. 

He faced the security - his own damn security - and then looked at who was heading it. 

Donald Menken. Harry bad thought he had seen the last of him when he dismissed him from the council; obviously he had been mistaken. Although he shouldn't have been. How many other 'mistakes' were there? How many times was Harry's authority undermined and ignored? Betrayed. 

"I thought I fired you." He said, his voice thankfully coming out firm and idle like he wasn't worried, even though he was panicking.

Donald Menken smiled coldly. "It seems like you just can't do a good job at anything these days." 

Harry stared at him in disbelief, and the other man took advantage of his silence to continue on. 

"You can't run Oscorp." Donald sneered. "You can't fire me. You can't control the council like you think you can, little boy. You think you're hot shit, but you're not. You can't even keep your boy toy under control. You can't keep up. What makes you think that you can play with the big boys?" 

Harry's hands gripped the edge of the desk. 

"I'm in charge here," He reminded him sternly. 

"But for how long?" He murmured, and Harry tried - he tried - not to react to that, but he reared back at that. 

"Oh yes," He continued smugly. "New kid signs off on all sorts of ... unsavory projects. Covers up the death of his own employee. You're not going to be CEO for long once people find out."

"But I didn't do that!" Harry protested, standing in his anger. "You did!"

"Prove it." He smirked. "It's got your name written all over it." He paused. "Literally." 

Harry couldn't believe it, couldn't believe this. 

"And with the scandals involving Mr. Parker, I'm sure no one will be eager to listen to your side of anything." 

Harry felt coldness wash over him. "Scandals?" He asked, awareness creeping in, but he had to ask anyway to confirm it because - because, "He's only had one scandal." 

"Yeah, but it's surprisingly cheap to have them fabricated." He replied easily. "What do you think? Should I leak that he has a history with drugs? Prostitution? Maybe stage some more incriminating photos?" 

Harry took a furious step forward, and the security team shifted as a response. Harry froze. "Stay away from him." He said quietly. "He doesn't have anything to do with this."

Donald Menken eyed him thoughtfully. "Maybe he does, and maybe he doesn't. Maybe I just want to see Harry Osborn brought down and humiliated, everything that he loves taken away from him." He chuckled, shrugging arrogantly. "But, hey, maybe I don't even have to do that, since _you're_ doing it yourself." His smile turned cruel. "You'll be dead soon enough anyways." 

Harry lunged at him. 

The security tackled him, grabbing him from the air before he made any sort of contact. Harry viciously struggled, trying to pull away from the tight hands that restrained him. His feet didn't even touch the floor as arms held him up, and they scrambled for purchase on the tile, even though the men lifted him away from finding his footing. His shoulders also were pushed down painfully to keep him subdued, his neck bowed. He felt humiliation and fear well up inside of him as he couldn't do anything to break free. 

"Escort him out." Donald commanded, and that was the last thing that Harry needed. 

"No!" He shouted, panicked, and everyone froze. The security turned to look towards Donald Menken for guidance, and Donald looked at Harry in mild contemplation. 

"I know my way out." Harry said haughtily, and the admission of defeat didn't sting as much as the hollow helplessness of the entire situation. He had to gain back some semblance of control; _he had to._ Donald nodded his head, and the security released Harry, who straightened up. He fixed his clothes with false bravado, the feigned cockiness a charade that he was used to presenting. It was like a second skin to him. 

He left his own company, his own building, behind for someone else to control, but he did it with his head held high and on his own two feet. 

And really that was all Harry could do in this situation before he broke down in tears besides a bottle of whiskey. 

\------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is this so sad? I'm so sorry?? _It wasn't supposed to turn out like this???_
> 
> Chapter title is from Carrie Underwood's "Before He Cheats"


	9. A Breakdown And A Blanket Fort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hurt/comfort chapter that has tears but also hugs. 
> 
> (Because Harry Osborn deserves some comforting.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canon divergence because I couldn't resist. So maybe Harry's a bit out of character this chapter, but ehh ~ 
> 
> (I mean, this whole story was pretty AU but now it's even _more_ AU. Because I don't want an evil Harry or a dead Gwen and neither do you.)

His phone rang in the middle of the night. 

Maybe it was the very early morning? But all Peter knew was that it was so late that he certainly wasn't expecting a phone call at that hour. He clumsily accepted the call, squinting at the bright light and blinking as he read the name without his glasses. Maybe... he was mistaken? He yawned and then he held it up to his ear.

"Harry?" He mumbled. 

"Peter." Harry said, and he sounded absolutely terrified. 

Peter's sleep-adled brain instantly became more alert. He idly rubbed one eyes, balancing his phone between his neck and shoulder and he squinted with bleary eyes. 

"Harry?" He asked, confused and concerned. "Is everything all right? What - what time is it?"

"Can you come over, Peter?" Harry asked, his voice shaking, ignoring the questions that Peter had poised. "It's - it's important." 

"Yeah, yeah." Peter nodded. "Um, sure?" 

"Thank you." Harry whispered, and then he paused. "I mean, it's not really _that_ important. It's not actually important at all. I just... need to see you." 

"Harry." Peter interrupted his frettful worrying. "Let me get pants on, and I'll come over. It's not a problem; I promise." 

Harry was silent. 

"See ya soon, Har." Peter said softly, worried about his friend. 

"Yeah... Yeah." Harry breathed quietly, and Peter wasn't sure if he was supposed to have heard that or not. 

Harry disconnected the call. 

A minute later, Peter received a text with an address on it, along with a passcode. 

As he was pulling on his coat, he received another text. 

It read: 

"Don't come over. And sorry about calling so late." 

Peter stared at it for a moment in silence. Then he scoffed, shoving his phone into his pocket. 

"'Don't come over' he says." He mocked Harry with a roll of his eyes. "Yeah. Right. Like, I would leave him alone after that phone call. Idiot." 

He waited until he had gotten off of the subway to reply to the text. 

"Almost there." Was all that he sent. 

He didn't, at first, think that Harry was going to reply. But then, he did. 

"Okay." 

Peter hesitated, but then typed out a final "See you soon, Harry" before continuing on his way hurriedly.

\-----------------------------------------

Peter's leg nervously bounced as he waited for the elevator's doors to open.  

"C'mon, c'mon." He chanted, staring at them intensely, waiting. 

The elevator finally dinged and opened its door, allowing Peter to rush out through them. He hurried to Harry's door. 

He knocked once, waited, and then tried the passcode that Harry had sent. The door opened immediately. 

"Harry!" Peter called out, closing the door behind him. "Harry?" He went down the entraceway and stumbled into living room.

"Harry." Peter said softly, taking a step closer and then pausing.

There were empty bottles littered next to Harry on the couch, taking up any available surface with their presence. Harry sat next to them, a knitted blanket partially thrown over his lap. A half-stubbed cigarette burned half-heartedly in an ash tray on the side table, and the smell itched at Peter's nose. Harry stared listlessly at the wooden floors, avoiding Peter's face. 

He cautiously approached his friend with slow, quiet steps. Then, gently, he knelt down in front of him. 

"Harry." He said again, his face drawn in sadness as he stared up at Harry's red-rimmed eyes. 

Harry looked down at him from his position on the couch and let out a scoff. "You don't have to baby me, Peter." He chided. "I'm fine." 

"Harry, please." Peter spoke softly, ignoring his ashamed tone. 

"What do you want from me?" Harry lashed out, eyes blazing furiously in a misguided attempt to hide his emotions - to hide his weakness that was so prevelently on display. "To say that I'm not fine? To say that everything is the opposite of fine? Is that what you want? For me to admit that everything is terrible, and it's somehow it's the least of my problems since I won't be here long enough to deal with all this bullshit? Is that what you want?" 

Harry's heaving breaths filled the silent room. 

Peter's pale face stared at him in shocked horror, frozen in devastated disbelief. 

Slowly, he became aware of himself and what he had just said. "Shit." He muttered, tears springing into his eyes. " _Shit._ " 

He hadn't wanted Peter to find out. Least of all, to find out like this. 

"Harr - " Peter's voice cracked and he stopped. "Harry." He tried again, voice still trembling but a little more stable. "What do you mean?" 

Harry screwed his eyes shut. 

"Harry, please. _Please._ " Peter begged, hands clutching on to the fabric that loosely covered Harry's knees. 

"I'm dying, Peter." He admitted without opening his eyes. 

Peter let out a strangled exhale. 

"I'm dying." He continued. "And there's nothing that I can do about it." 

A weight leaned against Harry's legs as Peter collapsed against them, wrapping his arms around them in a sad parody of a hug. His face rested above Harry's knees, and he could feel the wet tears flowing on to his thighs. 

"It's going to okay." Peter said shakily, his warm breath puffing against Harry's legs. "We'll figure something out. There has to be something we can do. You and I - we'll figure something out."

Harry finally opened his eyes. He looked down at his friend, who was wrapped around his legs completely and crying into them quietly. 

Harry hesitantly placed a shaky hand on the top of Peter's head. 

"Peter." He quietly spoke. "There's nothing." 

Peter shook his head, unintentionally rubbing his snotty nose against the fabric as he did so. 

"I don't believe that." He argued, desperately clinging on to Harry. 

Harry leaned back on the couch, his upper torso hitting the cushions exhaustedly. 

"Yeah." He agreed quietly, honestly, as a small flicker of hope bloomed in his aching chest. "Neither do I." 

Peter lifted his head and looked up. 

His eyes were puffy, and he still had trails of snot and tears; but he offered Harry a warm smile. 

Harry loved him so damn much. 

"We'll figure something out." Peter said again, lifting his arm and wiping at his face messily with the sleeve of his cardigan. 

"Sure." Harry relented, not quite believing it and _yet_... not quite disbelieving it either. 

But, somehow, it was easier to believe it when Peter was right there - when Peter wanted to believe it too. 

Maybe, Harry suspected silently, Peter could convince him to do anything.

\-------------------------------------------

Peter eventually did release his grip on Harry's legs, unwinding his arms and standing up. He brushed aside the empty bottles and sat down next to him on the couch.

"Hey." Peter said softly. 

Harry looked at him for a moment before glancing away. 

Peter's gentle, concerned, _kind_ face was too much right now. 

Harry's hands were shaking. He was all too aware of them. Their tremors jolted his fingers against the blanket softly. 

Peter gently, so gently, lifted his trembling hands and grasped them in his own. Harry merely watched him with wide eyes - on the verge of protesting but somehow never finding his voice to do so. Especially when Peter just held them softly together and ducked his head down over them to place the lightest of kisses - one on each hand. 

Harry felt like his breath was caught in his lungs. He just stared in amazement as Peter continued to tenderly hold his quivering hands. Peter hadn't stared, hadn't asked questions, hadn't looked at Harry's sickness in disgust. He looked at Harry as if he were something... precious, perhaps.

Harry's heartbeat quickly doubled at that thought. He could feel the blush slowly rising on his face, and he wanted to scrub at it with his hand along with the sticky tear tracks that still lingered; but that would require _pulling away_ from Peter. And that - that was just something that he couldn't do. 

"Harry." Peter murmured, ducking his head down softly, and bringing it lower to gently rest his forehead against Harry's. 

As the warmth touched him, Harry closed his eyes. 

Peter rested against him so softly, so kindly, their foreheads touching together and noses occasionally bumping. 

Harry's breath felt shaky and uneven. 

Peter's own breath was steady, as were his hands, and his warmth, and his sheer presence that was radiating with kindness. 

Harry felt tears trickle at the corners of his eyes yet again, and he squeezed his eyes more tightly shut. 

"It's going to be okay, Harry." Peter whispered, and his breath fanned warmly against Harry - the nearly tangible contact felt like a reassuring touch, like the rest of where Peter was touching him. It was steadying him, and he couldn't explain how or why. He just knew that the warmth - that Peter's warmth - and his fragile motions, his kindness that was so achingly sincere - 

Harry suddenly ripped his hands away from Peter's grasp and quickly flung his arms around Peter in an immediate motion that took his friend by surprise. Hesitantly after a moment, Peter returned the gesture. His hovering hands wrapped around Harry and his grip became more solid, even more grounding. 

"Hey, hey," Peter said softly, in a soothingly shushed tone. "It's okay. You're going to be okay. You're okay. Harry. It's going to be okay."

Harry's fingers wound themselves in the fabric of Peter's clothing and refused to relinquish their hold. He couldn't find the words to respond; he didn't even know how to respond. He just - he just - 

"Thanks... Peter." Harry murmured into Peter's shoulder, his chin rising and falling with the motion of Peter's answering shrug. 

"Of course." Peter said, the words themselves casual but the tone filled with tender sincerity. 

Harry smiled.

"Hey." Peter said suddenly, the almost mischievous tone in his voice making Harry pull away to look at him. Peter grinned. "Do you want to build a pillow fort?" He asked in an excited hush, like it was some amazing secret. 

"You're a dork." Harry said. And his lips twisted up at the familiar feeling of saying those words. "You're a complete and utter dork, Peter."

"Does that mean no?" Peter asked, and Harry scoffed. 

He rubbed at his puffy eyes with his sleeves for a moment, ensuring that there was no leftover tears, as Peter waited for a reply. 

"Well?" Harry asked in a faux impatient voice. "What are you waiting for, Parker?" He gestured to the room around them with one hand. "Pillow forts don't build themselves." 

Peter's eyes crinkled in laughter. 

"Sir, yes, sir." He lazily saluted with two of his fingers. 

Then he stood up from the couch, mindful of Harry's nearby limbs as he did so.

\-----------------------------------------

 

"Hey, Peter?" Harry asked, staring up at the blanket ceiling of their fort. His head rested on top of Peter's stomach as a makeshift pillow. 

"Yeah?" Peter replied, propping himself up slightly on his forearms in order to look at Harry. 

"I'm glad you're here." Harry admitted quietly, and he didn't turn to look at Peter's face. He just stared at the blankets overhead and felt warm.

"Me too." There was a pause. "I mean, I'm glad I'm here, and I'm also glad that you're here. But why wouldn't you be here; it's your house, after all. Unless you mean 'here' like, metaphorically in the universe. Because that would also apply. I'm also glad that you exist and are here, and that I exist and am here, and that _we_ exist and are here -" 

"Peter." Harry could feel the smile growing on his face. "Shut up." 

Peter's laughter shook Harry, his position on his stomach making him follow the movements of the sound. 

"Hey, Pete." Harry said softly, once they had settled still. "If we fall asleep, do you promise to stay?" 

"Yeah, sure, of course." Peter answered, and Harry finally let his eyes fall shut. 

"Good." He breathed out quietly. "Good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is turning out sadder than planned. But yay for some not-sadness at the end, right? 
> 
> (Also, heads up: like this chapter, updates will be slowing down in pace until the unforeseeable future. Due to illness. Thank you for your understanding.)
> 
>  
> 
> **And be sure to check out TwoStomach's work that's inspired by this story! It's really amazing and cute, and I love it so much! Personally, I really recommend anything that they have written, but "WHAT sugar daddy(s)??" is one of my favorites.**


	10. So Here We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a chapter, you guys!!!

Harry woke up, tired and aching, but warm. 

He turned over, trying to get more comfortable, and his face rubbed against something both scratchy and soft. He frowned. 

He opened his eyes and immediately remembered the night before when he saw that he was laying against Peter's cardigan-covered side. 

He carefully removed himself and sat up, mindful of the low, fragile ceiling of the blanket fort. 

He simply stared at Peter, bewildered in a way that someone like him could exist. 

Peter was drooling onto the floor with his mouth slightly hanging open, limbs splayed awkwardly, and Harry still thought he looked so, so beautiful. 

Cautiously, Harry inched his hand closer to where one of Peter's hands rested. He hesitated, but then gently wound his fingers around Peter's. 

The steady warmth of another human being - of _Peter_ \- was immensely reassuring. 

Harry sighed contentedly. 

"You're a dork." Harry whispered, staring at their interlocked fingers with a smile. "You're a dork, but you're the best human that I know, and I'm so glad that I met you." 

"Sometimes," Harry admitted quietly, all too aware that raising his voice might wake Peter, "Sometimes I can't believe that you are real. When I was younger, I used to be convinced that you were an angel." Harry chuckled softly. "Sometimes the idea doesn't seem too far off, you know? But I'm just so, so thankful that you came back into my life, Pete." Harry's voice broke slightly. "For however long I have left, I'm glad I can spend it with you." 

Harry gave another laugh, this one wetter and more choked up. He let go of Peter's hand to rub at his tired, aching eyes that were still slightly puffy.

And Harry abruptly taking his hand away is what ended up waking Peter. 

"Hey," Peter murmured sleepily, without opening his eyes, and he then wound an arm around his face and snuggled into it. "G' mornin'" He muttered into the crook of his elbow, yawning. 

Harry smiled. "Go back to sleep." He murmured quietly. 

"I'm - I'm awake." Peter protested but still didn't open his eyes. 

"Go back to sleep, Peter."

"'Kay," Peter sighed happily and snuggled further into his own arm. 

Harry stared at him for a long time, a soft smile slightly on his face. Peter curled up further into himself as Harry took one last look. 

\--------------------------------------

Peter woke up a bit confused. 

He wasn't immediately sure why he was on the floor next to a ton of pillows, with the textured imprint of his cardigan sleeve smashed onto his face in deep, wavy grooves that he could feel in lines as he rubbed his face drowsily. 

But, as he stared up at the blanket overhead, he slowly remembered how he got there. 

"Harry!" Peter realized, sitting up so abruptly that the entire blanket fort came crashing down on his head. 

 

\----------------------------------------

 

"You left." Peter said as he leaned against Harry's island countertop casually, as if he hadn't just frantically sprinted there after a mad dash around the loft. "Sort of. You're still _here_ here but. Well. You left?" 

"Mm." Harry didn't even look at him and continued making his second cup of coffee with rigid focus. 

"Are - is everything - " Peter paused, frustrated with his lack of words "Harry? Was last night..." 

Harry glanced at him. 

"You know...okay?" Peter worried. "Are you okay?" 

"Oh." Harry muttered. He took a swig of his coffee. "Last night was..." Harry paused; then he exhaled softly and continued. "It was fine, Peter." 

"Are you sure?" Peter persisted. "I'm kind of getting this vibe that I did something wrong. Was it - was it the fort? Harry, c'mon, pal, talk to me." 

Harry sighed. "No, Peter, it's - It's not you. It's me. It could never be you." 

Peter rocked back on his heels and then balanced forwards towards his toes, then rocked back leaning his weight in his heels again. 

"Yeah?" He asked. 

Harry smiled fondly. "Yeah. "

Peter nodded. "Okay. Okay. But we should - we should talk about. You know. Things."

"Things." Harry hid another smile behind the rim of his coffee mug.

"You know," Peter looked at him with a pointed look. "Things. Have you consulted any doctors? What, exactly, was the timeframe they gave you - and why? What can we do to help you? What can I do?"

"Oh." Harry muttered in disappointment. " _Those_ types of things." 

"I mean, it can wait until later," Peter assured him. "But. I want to help you, Harry. In any way that I can." 

Harry sighed. 

"Sit down." Harry gestured to the small round breakfast table.

Peter sat. He looked at Harry expectantly. 

Harry sat down. 

\-----------------------------------

"Wait." Peter realized suddenly, eyebrows furrowing. "Why aren't you at Oscorp? Did you take the day off?" 

"It's 12:45." Harry said, a tad amused, despite the instant swell of anxiety that came with the reminder that he wasn't at Oscorp. And the reason _why_ he wasn't at Oscorp that automatically came associated with it. "You just noticed?" 

"Eh." Peter shrugged. "I was distracted." 

"That's not hard to do." Harry quipped at him. 

Peter poked his arm. "You're dodging the subject, Harry." 

Harry blew out an annoyed gust of air, as he deliberated. "Fine. I'm... not ... exactly welcome at Oscorp right now." 

"What does that mean?" Peter asked, instantly serious as he leaned forward inquisitively, elbows splayed out on the table. "You're the CEO. How can you _not_ be welcome there? And - even if, for som reason, you weren't - it doesn't seem like something that would stop you." 

Harry paused. "I don't," He said slowly, "Really have a choice this time, Peter." 

"You're not making any sense." He shook his head. "You're the CEO." 

Harry gripped his mug tighter to steady himself. 

"There... are things that you don't know." He warned. 

"So clue me in." Peter offered innocently. 

Harry sighed heftily. "It's complicated."

"I thought you don't do complicated?" Peter smiled. 

"Yeah," Harry chuckled wryly despite himself. "So did I." 

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Okay," He said in a hushed voice. "But. This stays between you and me. You can't tell anyone - not even your Aunt May."

Peter nodded slowly. "Alright." He agreed solemnly. 

Harry exhaled. "Okay. Well, it all started right after my father died..."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for being so patient! I am so thankful to everyone who reads this story, and I thank you for sticking with it! Updates are going to be slow - so, so slow - due to health. 
> 
> Right now writing chaptered fics is a lot more straining than oneshots, so my chaptered fics are on the backburner but not forgotten.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [WHAT sugar daddy(s)??](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6853342) by [godlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/godlet/pseuds/godlet)




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